Higurashi: Broken Chains Arc
by Absoltheharbinger
Summary: Self-Insert fan arc of the Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni series. I do not own any of the characters within, apart from myself and Charlie a friend of mine in real life . Rated for graphic murder and torture, as well as minor language. Part one of the 'Broken' mini-series I'm working on. I regret nothing. Read and review please!
1. Exchange

**_Chapter 1 – Exchange_**

"OK, everybody; can I have your attention please?" the teacher called.

The class of children stopped chattering, and stared up at the front of the class. The teenager standing next to the teacher squirmed uneasily, uncomfortable with all the attention. He was wearing a white shirt and straight, sensible black trousers. The tidy effect was rather put off by the pair of battered white trainers he wore on his feet. His grey schoolbag was hanging from one shoulder, and was clearly stuffed with one too many books. His hair was long, brown and straight, and hung over one eye. The other was a coppery shade of green and looked tired and jet-lagged. He hardly seemed to fit in the class of mismatched children of all ages from about six to seventeen.

"This is our new student," continued the teacher. "His name is Henry Parkinson, and he is here as an exchange student. I trust you will all make him feel happy and comfortable here in Hinamizawa."

Hinamizawa. Henry had wanted to go somewhere new. There was something about the little rural community that attracted him. It may have been the peace and quiet; it may have the community spirit. Even so, it was hard enough just getting there. Several hours on the plane followed by a three-hour bullet train ride. And an hour-long regular train journey. And another half an hour by taxi.

He'd arrived in the small hours of the morning, tired and hungry. Henry couldn't fall asleep on a moving vehicle, so he'd whiled the long hours reading through a stack of books. He collapsed onto the bed in the house he'd been given for accommodation, too exhausted to notice that there was little in the way of a mattress and that there was no bed frame. He was, naturally, woken by the alarm too early to be reasonable for school.

He'd been so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't realise that the teacher was talking to him.

"Sorry?" he asked in broken Japanese; his grasp of the language was limited, and he was barely keeping up. He made a mental note: Next time, take more time to learn the bloody language. Several of the younger kids giggled at his funny accent; flat and depressed.

"I said that you had best be getting on with your work. There's a seat next to Rena."

"Rena?"

A cute-looking ginger girl of about fourteen or fifteen waved at him. Sitting around her table were another two kids about Henry's age; a boy with messy brown hair, and a tall girl with a long green ponytail.

Henry sat down, dropping his bag to the floor. It promptly burst open, scattering thick textbooks and battered lever-arch binders. He ducked beneath the table, gathering them up with practised ease. He sat back up, slammed a slim, orange textbook titled IB Physics (in English, naturally) on the desk, and stared blankly at it as though it might start cartwheeling around the table or something.

"So, when'd you get here?" asked Rena in fascination, as though the brooding person next to her was the most interesting person in the world.

Silence. She waved her hand in front of his face. Still nothing. She prodded Henry hard in the arm. Instantly he shook awake; not like a human, all panicky and flustered, but more like a machine. He looked around at her.

"Yes?" he asked. His tone wasn't irritated, but patient. It was as though he'd shut down and rebooted.

"I asked when you got here."

Henry checked his watch. "About six hours ago."

"Aren't you tired?" asked the tall girl. Unlike Rena's sailor-like uniform, she wore a yellow waistcoat, white blouse, narrow green tie and a pink, pleated skirt.

"Use your imagination," Henry replied, flipping open his book and grabbing a highlighter from his pencil case. He realised too late that he sounded about as friendly as a stinging nettle. "I had about two hours' sleep. Of course I'm tired. And you are?"

"Sonozaki Mion. This is Maebara Keiichi and Ryūgū Rena. So you're an exchange student?"

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly, putting his highlighter down. He was too tired to concentrate on quantum physics anyway. "I used to live in the UK."

"Wow," said Rena, fascinated. "Did your family come with you?"

Henry shook his head, his hair flapping in the breeze from the open window. "Dad couldn't leave his job; the boys couldn't leave their school. Plus I'm the only one who knows any Japanese. There's just me."

By the end of the day, it seemed like Keiichi, Mion and Rena knew his whole life story, yet they still had questions they wanted to ask him. Mion grabbed his arm as he was about to leave.

"You have the honour of joining our club!" she declared, as though he knew what the hell she was on about.

"Club?" he asked, clueless. He looked around at the students still in the classroom. It was the end of school, and most of the small class had already run off into the sunshine outside. Even the teacher had left. Aside from his 'friends', Henry saw another two girls. One was wearing a green dress and yellow neckerchief with cropped blond hair, the other with a white blouse, red skirt and long, purple-blue hair. Both were about eleven.

"Come on, Henry," said Rena, tapping a chair. The tables had been pushed to the walls, with one large table in the middle. "Rena wants you to join in."

"What is this club?"

"We play games, sir," said the purple-haired girl. "Nipaa," she added, although Henry couldn't understand what it meant.

Henry sighed. He was not, by nature, a very game-y sort of guy. He'd hoped to go home after school and catch up on some sleep. However, they were all staring at him earnestly. If he ever wanted to fit in, it would be best to get to know them all.

"Fine. I'll stay."

He was about to take his seat when he heard it; a faint rattle of something metallic on the wood. The blond kid was, valiantly, holding in a chuckle, and her eyes were twinkling. He pulled out his chair.

Scattered all over the seat were a couple of dozen thumb tacks.

He looked at the blond girl, and cocked an eyebrow. She stopped chuckling and looked faintly cheated.

"We haven't introduced you yet, have we?" said Keiichi brightly, trying to break the frosty atmosphere that had fallen. "This is Hōjō Satoko and Furude Rika. Be warned; Satoko is a little trap-happy."

Henry swept the tacks up and put them back in the little pot on the teacher's desk. He sat down as Mion opened her locker door. It was crammed to bursting with almost every game imaginable. She drew out a deck of cards, causing the piles of games to teeter threateningly. She slammed the door shut and walked back to the table, shuffling the cards with a look of malevolent glee on her face.

"As it's your first club meeting, we won't be playing anything too strenuous. Old Maid all right with you?"

Henry nodded, though he doubted he would have had a say in it anyway. On the other hand, his instincts were screaming at his rational mind that it would all end in tears. He paid it no heed.

However, as Mion dealt the first hand, he grew slightly suspicious. A ripple of malevolent chuckles flitted around the girls, and Keiichi had an expression that almost resembled pity.

He lost the first hand by an epic margin. And the next. And the one after that. After four hands, it was his turn to deal. That's when he noticed the cards were a little fishy.

They were absolutely ancient; they must have been older by far than Mion, who was a little younger than he was. They were stained, battered, folded and dog-eared.

_They know what the cards are from the damage to the backs_.

He dealt the cards, but this time he hid all but the very tops of his cards in the cup of his hand. He noticed that the girls and Keiichi were quickly and surreptitiously scanning everybody's cards, finding out what they had. He may not know the deck, but at least he could make it harder for them.

Or so he thought. After ten hands, Mion called it a day and began to tot up the scores. Henry came stone-dead last, Mion and Satoko joint first. Henry got to his feet.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," he declared. The others got up too, but instead of moving for the door they pounced, pinning him to the ground. He didn't realise how strong Rena was; she was like a dead weight on his shoulder. Mion pulled a black marker pen from her pocket, pulled off the cap and advanced, looking down on him with a demonic glee in her eyes.

"You thought you could get out of the punishment game?" she laughed.

"Punishment game?" Henry said, struggling to keep his cool.

"Rule number one in our club: Do everything in your power to win. If you can't keep up, you must be punished."

She was kneeling on his chest now, the pen poised. Henry guessed that whatever she was going to draw or write, it wouldn't be good.

Henry was not in his best of moods when he got home. It wasn't the 'punishment'; cat whiskers and a Japanese taunt he couldn't understand were easy enough to take in his stride. Rena wouldn't shut up about it all the way home; she and Keiichi lived in the same neighbourhood as him, so they went home the same way.

No, what was bugging was that he needed some sleep. He kept drifting into catnaps at school, and he didn't want to be doing the same after the weekend. But he still had unpacking to do; his stuff had been moved weeks in advance so that it would arrive before he did. Unfortunately, he was so shattered after his day that he only stayed awake long enough to wash the graffiti off his face before he collapsed into bed thankful that, at least, there was no school the next day ...

Henry cursed his luck when he woke the next morning. The doorbell was ringing insistently. He ambled to the front door, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

Rena was on the other side, with a large plastic box and a huge smile.

"Morning, Henry-kun!" she said brightly.

"Morning," replied Henry, bewildered. "D'you want to come in? I'm hardly awake."

Rena blushed, and stepped inside uncertainly.

"Relax; I don't bite," he said, shutting the door. Rena was wearing a white dress the billowed in the breeze, and was pulling off a pair of tall, slim brown boots. Henry, on the hand, was still wearing his crumpled school uniform. "Just make yourself comfortable. I've got to change."

"Henry shouldn't sleep in his uniform!" Rena called after him, turning into what was only informally his living room. Henry shut his sliding bedroom door. There were actually two bedrooms in the house, so there was a choice. Henry vaguely had the room plan in his head, but apart from the kitchen and the bathroom, nothing was concrete. He hauled his casual clothes out of the trunk that was lying open next to his bed, and got changed as fast as he could. He had, after all, a guest.

He washed and brushed his teeth, then went to find Rena. She was sitting in one of the armchairs that he'd managed to acquire, her knees drawn into her chest as though the floor was contagious.

"Wow; that was quick!"

"A true gentleman never keeps a lady waiting," Henry said, dropping into a low bow and doffing his fake-fur raccoon hat. The effect was marred slightly by his broken Japanese. Nonetheless, Rena turned bright red again and gasped. Henry had noticed that; Rena would blush at the drop of a hat. "And what was it you wanted at this unholy hour?" he asked.

"Rena wanted to bring you food," she said, opening the box. Inside were all kinds of cold foods.

"Thanks," said Henry, stunned. He'd heard of the community spirit in Hinamizawa, but he wasn't expecting Rena knocking on his door first thing in the morning, especially with enough food to last him a week. "Is that all? Or did you want me to hang out with you or something?"

Rena beamed. "Henry-kun hasn't seen all of Hinamizawa yet has he? Has he?"

"Rena, I've been here ..." He checked his watch. "Twenty-seven hours. I haven't had the chance. Why? If you to show me the sights, I'm cool with that. Just let me find my shoes."

"They're by the door," she said, clearly eager to go.

"Oh, yeah. Of course."

"... and this is the Furude Shrine!" she declared, once they'd reached to top of the stone steps, worn and pitted from thousands of feet. The steps looked as though they'd always been there. Henry was out of puff by the time he reached the top.

"Furude?" he gasped, clutching a stitch. To be fair, aside from walking to school and back, he hadn't done any real exercise since before heading to the airport. That felt like months ago to him. "As in Rika? Do her parents run it?"

Rena stopped dead in her tracks. "Family," she said seriously. "Her whole family helps keep the shrine going." She turned round, and was smiling again. "Come on, over here!"

Henry had the strange feeling that he'd brushed a sensitive subject.

Rena led him over to a sort of stone stage, with a stone wall at the far end. She was leaning on the wall, looking out at the view. Henry decided to join her.

"Whoa," he said quietly. The view was absolutely spectacular. Now he knew why the shrine was built on the top of such a steep, high hill. The whole village lay splayed out beneath them as though they were flying. It was as though the shrine was a kind of stone sentinel, standing impassive and imperious over the village. The rice fields were dyed a brilliant cinnabar by the sunset; Rena had taken him _everywhere_ in Hinamizawa and to most of Okinomiya, the nearest town. They had had lunch in the Angel Mort restaurant, and Henry could have sworn that he saw Mion there.

He wished his family could see this. To compensate, he took a photograph; he had taken so many today, and he wanted to send the best on the long trip back to England with a postcard to his family.

"Do you like it, Henry-kun? Do you?"

Henry wasn't the sentimental type, and he certainly wouldn't rush to write a long poem the moment he saw a daffodil. But he was almost lost for words. He was completely blown away by the view.

"It's beautiful," he said. And he was honest. He could see why Rena had saved it for last.

"Come on!" said Rena, turning away, and walking towards the stone benches.

"What's up?"

Rena opened her bag. Inside was what looked like a large lunchbox, similar to the one she'd dropped off at his place that morning. Inside was a frankly incredible spread of food.

"Don't you want any dinner?"

The dinner was delicious. Henry felt, miraculously, happy. Ecstatic, even. He was back at the stone wall, gazing out at Hinamizawa. There was a breeze playing with his hair, the higurashi were chirping in the undergrowth, and night had fallen. Henry loved night time, especially out here. Margate, where he used to live, was almost always in a state of dusk; the clouds always blotted out the sky and shone faintly orange from the streetlights far below. And there was the _noise_. But here in Hinamizawa, the sky was clean and clear. The stars shined like pinholes in the black velvet sky. The moon was almost full, and the twilight dyed everything soft shades of blue-grey. He loved it.

It was certainly an interesting day.

"_Arigatou gozaimasu_," he said, when they arrived at his house. It was one of the only Japanese phrases he could say with confidence. _Thank you very much_. "Today was brilliant."

"That's okay, Henry-kun!" she beamed.

"You guys up to much tomorrow?"

"Rena doesn't think so."

"If you find something, do tell me, yeah?"

"Okay!"

Henry chuckled and sprang to a mock salute. "Have a safe journey, ma'am!" he said.

Rena blushed, and began to cycle to her own home.

All of a sudden, Henry felt something peculiar. He didn't care what happened, this was what he wanted forever; the peace, friendliness and beauty of Hinamizawa.


	2. The Watanagashi

**_Chapter 2 – The Watanagashi_**

Barely a week after he'd moved in, Mion announced that that day's club meeting was cancelled. Henry frowned, confused. Rika had excused herself from the club meetings the last few days, but Mion?

"Is there something going on?"

"You'll see if you go to the Furude Shrine tomorrow morning."

And on that note, she left.

Saturday morning. Henry woke up early and cycled over to the shrine. Why would Mion call him here and now? He could hear voices at the top of the hill.

It looked like some sort of market or fair was being set up in front of the shrine. People were walking back and forth, setting up gazebos and awnings. And in the middle of it all? Sonozaki Mion, orchestrating the whole procedure.

He tapped her on the shoulder and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She groaned with annoyance when she saw him.

"Hen-chan!"

Henry frowned; an expression that often sent lesser mortal into a panic. "Firstly, _don't_ call me Hen. Secondly, I'm older than you, so you can't call me –chan. Anyway, I wanted to ask if there was anything I could do to help."

"Sure thing; start over _there_ and put up some stands."

It was a long, hot day. Henry was working like a Trojan, partly to be helpful and partly the irritation of no-one stopping long enough to explain what was even going on.

"I'm guessing you're the new kid in town," a voice said behind him.

Henry's concentration lapsed for a second, and the awning he was supposed to be putting up came crashing down on top of him, smothering his yell of 'Oh bugger!" The voice behind him giggled.

Henry untangled himself from the awning, looking up. "Mion? That's wasn't funny!"

That just made the girl giggle harder. "I ... I'm not Mion."

He got to his feet, pushing the hair from his eyes. She was about the same height as Mion, and had the same vivid green hair and eyes. But unlike Mion's yellow t-shirt and jeans, she was wearing a white, sleeveless, roll-neck sweater and a grey skirt. She also wore a rope of gleaming ambers around her skinny throat. Her hair wasn't tied into a ponytail, either; it hung loose, and had a couple of yellow ribbon bows tied into it.

"Yes, I'm the newbie. Name's Henry Parkinson."

"Oh, I know _that_."

"How?"

"This is Hinamizawa. Everybody knows everybody."

"Except me."

The girl laughed. She seemed friendlier than the tomboyish Mion, too. "You'll learn. My name's Sonozaki Shion."

"Another Sonozaki? Are you Mion's older sister or something?"

"Younger twin. Do I really look like I'm older than Mion?"

"I've never seen you at school, and I haven't seen you around the village as far as I can remember."

"Yeah, I live in Okinomiya. It was better for my schooling."

"Fair enough," he grunted, wrestling with the collapsed awning, trying to get it upright again. Something twigged in his mind. "It was you I saw in the Angel Mort, wasn't it?"

"I work there on weekends, but I got this weekend off."

"Why?" Henry asked, slotting the last leg into the framework.

"I'd have thought you'd know by now. That's Mion for you; as open as a shellfish."

"I take it you don't think much of Mion, then."

"We're not as close as you might think, no."

"So, back to the point; what is going on?"

"Why, it's the Watanagashi, of course!"

Henry was none the wiser. "Err ... put that in moron terms, please. The Who-jima-gashi?"

"No, Watanagashi. It's only the village event of the year. There's a fair going on to start with, and then the religious ceremony."

"Sounds interesting. I might go."

"You _will_ go. You don't belong in Hinamizawa if you don't."

"I was joking, Shion. Of course I'm going. If it's such a big festival, I can't _not_ go. Besides, I've been working like a dog to put these stands up."

"So you're actually looking forward to it?"

"Yeah, definitely."

A thin smile tugged at the corners of Shion's mouth, and her eyes seemed slightly malevolent in the afternoon sunlight. "That'll be a first."

"Why?"

"To answer that, I'll have to tell you a story ..."

"It all started a few years ago," Shion began, once they'd retreated to the cool shade of the trees. "The government imposed a plan to build a dam a little way down the river valley. They said it would bring jobs to the area."

"There's a catch, isn't there?"

"To build such a dam would put Hinamizawa and a couple more villages upstream underwater. They offered us money to start a new life, but we opposed them. Most of us _couldn't_ just up-sticks and start fresh. Things got ugly very quickly. They played dirty. We responded in kind. It was a bitter standstill. Then we got divine intervention."

"How?"

"Oyashiro-sama. The village's guardian deity. Some say he cursed the leader of the dam project. Whatever happened, the foreman was brutally hacked into six pieces. They still haven't found one of his arms ... or the murderer.

"The next year, on the night of the Watanagashi just like before, a couple from Hinamizawa who supported the dam project fell over the railings into a river gorge while sightseeing on holiday. They only found the husband's body. Again, Oyashiro-sama was believed to have cursed them."

"What?!"

"It gets worse. The next year, a priest at the Furude Shrine was struck down with a mysterious illness and died in hospital. His wife left a suicide note, and threw herself into the river. Her body has yet to be found.

"Remember the couple from the second year? The following year, his sister-in-law was beaten to death by a druggie. A child disappeared from the house that night, too."

"What about the next year?"

"The next Watanagashi ... is tomorrow. If the trend keeps up, tomorrow night, one will die, and another will disappear." Shion let out a laugh like she was insane, and Henry felt his hair stand on end. "Most of the village are wondering who it'll be."

"I'm kinda hoping no-one, to be honest."

"Whatever. I'll see you around, Henry." And with that, she left. Henry was stunned. If everyone knew everyone in Hinamizawa, how could something like that even happen?

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine ...

It was, as it transpired, better than fine. The festival, which began at sunset, was spectacular. Everyone from Hinamizawa had gathered, trying out stalls and generally having a good time. Henry hid at the edge of the proceedings, keeping an eye out for Keiichi, Rena and the others.

"Found you, Henry-kun!" cried a voice, jumping up and grabbing him by the throat from behind.

Henry yelled out in surprise, before he looked over his shoulder and saw Rena beaming up at him.

"Hey, Rena. Where are the others?"

"I don't know," she admitted. She was still clinging to his throat.

"Do you want a piggyback? It'll be easier if you could see over the crowd.

Rena nodded, and Henry squatted down. He got a firm grip on her legs and stood up, almost staggering. Rena was considerably lighter than she looked. It did the trick, though; she could see over the milling heads of the many people.

"There! I see Mion!" she cried, after twenty seconds of confused meandering.

"Where?" called up Henry, none the wiser.

"Go straight ahead."

Henry fought his way through the crowd, Rena driving on like a mildly annoying back-seat driver.

"How'd you get so tall, Rena?" asked a voice Henry recognised as Keiichi's. He must have seen her head and chest bobbing above the crush of bodies.

Eventually, they broke from the crowd. They met Keiichi, Mion, Shion, Satoko and Rika there.

"You're late!" Mion scolded, jabbing Henry in the chest.

He let Rena climb down from his back. "Give me a break, Mion; it's like Dover out there."

The meaning was lost on the others. Henry sighed, and proceeded to explain that in his old school at Dover, it often got incredibly crowded in the corridors.

"Well, we're here now," he said, bringing the subject back to the here-and-now. He looked around at the group. Mion, as with yesterday, was wearing her yellow t-shirt and jeans. Only this time, she had an airsoft pistol holstered at her shoulder. Shion was also wearing the same as yesterday. Keiichi was wearing a black sleeveless top and red waistcoat, and a pair of khaki-green shorts and blue trainers. Satoko was wearing a pink sleeveless top and denim shorts. But it was Rika who stood out most.

Rika was wearing a white-and-red silk kimono, painstakingly decorated and embroidered. Henry reasoned it wasn't casual clothing.

"Hey, Rika; what with the kimono?"

"Didn't you know? I'm the shrine maiden." She let out a giggle and did a theatrical twirl."Do you like it?"

"It looks great! And no; I didn't know about the shrine maiden thing. _Certain people_ decided not to tell me," he added, glaring at Mion. Mion let out a gasp of insincere shock. Shion and Keiichi burst into laughter.

"Anyway," cut in Satoko, before blood was spilled, "hadn't we better get on with the club challenges?"

"Yeah!" said Mion. "Whoever can do best at the stands wins!"

The first challenge was Rika's choice. She led them over to a stand with a cheerful-looking lady frying was looked like dumplings. The smell was delicious.

"Whoever eats the most takoyaki wins," she said simply.

"It's that simple?" Henry asked. Eating dumplings? He could do that.

Rika giggled. "Mii," she said, by way of agreement. Rika seemed to have a penchant for saying random, nonsense words like that.

"You the new guy?" asked the woman at the stand.

"Yeah, that's me," said Henry. _As if you couldn't tell_, he added in his head. He looked incredibly out of place in his heavy camo jacket, cargo trousers, dark t-shirt and battered trainers. Cap it all of with his favourite raccoon hat, he was easily the most distinguishable of the group. It didn't help that she probably knew all of the others anyway.

"You've got quite a nerve to take up that challenge. Rika-chan here's got quite the appetite for takoyaki."

Henry wasn't to be deterred. If he was ever going to beat Mion, he needed to do everything in his power.

In the end, Mion and Satoko came last, managing just four each before they claimed they couldn't eat any more. Shion, despite claims that she wasn't part of the club, downed five of the innocuous dumplings. Rena, six. Keiichi tried to eat nine in one go, but instantly ran off into the bush and was sick, and hence was disqualified. Rika managed eight without slowing, but had to excuse herself, as she had to get ready for the ceremony. Henry soon discovered why the others couldn't manage very many; they were incredibly spicy. Nonetheless, he swallowed eight and actually asked for a couple more for good luck.

"How did you do that?!" asked Mion incredulously, as Henry was halfway through his ninth.

He swallowed his mouthful, and said, "I love spicy food."

Mion sighed in resignation. "Alright, all those without asbestos tongues, follow me to the shooting range. Henry, finish that and meet us there."

Henry nodded, finished his takoyaki … and gasped in purest agony the moment she was out of earshot. If this was a cartoon, flames would be licking out of his throat.

"Too many?" asked the lady at the stand.

"I'll live. It was worth it to see the look on Mion's face."

At the shooting gallery, Rena was about to take up her position. Shion thrust the stand's other gun into his hands.

"Good luck, dragon-boy. Most prizes wins."

"Dragon-boy?"

"How else could you handle a mouthful of fire like that?"

Henry shook his head with exasperation, and took up his position. Rena had her eyes set on a _gigantic_ teddy bear in the centre of the range. She fired at it, hitting it in the chest, but powerful as the hit was, all it did was make the toy shake a bit.

She tried again, aiming for the head. The bear swayed a bit, but didn't fall. Henry touched her on the arm to get her attention.

"Hold on a sec," he murmured. Physics and maths sleeted through his head. He estimated the height and weight of the bear, the weight and velocity of the cork bullets. The turning moment needed to knock over the bear. He raised his gun and shot at a small packet of sweets. It was not the sweets he was after, however. It was the recoil of the gun.

"Ok, on three," he told her, aiming his gun at the bear's smiling face. Rena's implacable desire for anything cute will not win her the bear.

"Three … two … one … fire!"

She fired a nanosecond before he did, unable to contain her 'omochikaeri' impulse any longer. However, it didn't matter. Both shots thudded into the bear's head, knocking it over.

"Here you go," said the stall owner, a sharp-eyed man. He must have realised that Henry hit it last because he thrust the giant stuffed bear into his arms.

"Thanks, but Rena can have him," he said, passing the bear on to the blushing Rena.

"Do you mean it? Do you?"

"Sure," said Henry, shooting down another box of sweets with his final shot. "I don't need a giant teddy bear, and you were the one who wanted to take it home. Plus, I still haven't repaid you for last weekend."

"You're too nice to that girl," laughed Shion.

"I guess that under this depressive, boring exterior I'm just a really nice guy."

"Nice work," said a man's voice from behind him. He heard the snap of a camera flash.

Henry spun round. Behind them was a tall man with a green baseball cap, beige trouser, a black vest and frameless specs. And, naturally, a camera on a strap. Henry was about to have a go at him for not asking before to take the photo, but decided it sounded petty. Instead, he said, "I'm sorry, but we haven't met before."

"True," said the man. "My name's Tomitake. I'm a freelance photographer from Tokyo."

"Hey, Tomitake-ojisama!" called Mion, realising who was there. "So you made it to the Watanagashi?"

"Couldn't miss it, could I? I've got some pretty good photos so far."

"Come on, guys! Next stand!" declared Satoko, setting off already. The others followed suit, leaving Tomitake alone with Henry.

"I take it you're new here?" he asked. Not intrusively, politely.

"Yeah; what gave it away?"

"Your accent, the broken Japanese, and the fact I've never seen you before. What's your name?"

"Henry. Henry Parkinson. I'm a sort of exchange student. I take it you're not from Hinamizawa either."

"No; I come here a few times every year because the wildlife here is so stunning."

"I see. So you like the Watanagashi?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah, it's been quite good fun so far, and we've still got the ceremony to go."

"Hmm. I trust you know about the Hinamizawa murders?"

"Shion told me. Why?"

"It's going to happen again. I'm sure of it."

Henry gritted his teeth. "No. It's all going to be fine." It was hope rather than expectation that made him say it.

Someone thumped him on the shoulder. "You're too slow!" laughed a voice that could have been Mion or Shion. "Come on; the ceremony's about to start!"

The ceremony was taking place at the entrance to the shrine, away from the noise and hustle of the stalls. One of the priests was thumping a huge bass drum, sending vibrations through the ground. Henry, Shion and the club were the first ones there, and were right at the front of the growing crush. Rika walked into view, calm and collected, with a serious expression on her face and a huge ceremonial hoe taller than she was in her hands. The beat picked up, and Rika swung the hoe down, tearing open the padded cotton blankets. Henry took a couple of photos, but didn't want to take more for fear of being considered disrespectful.

Other priests were rolling bits of the shredded cotton padding into small balls and setting them on a tray to the side of the shrine. People were queuing up to take a ball of cotton each.

"Come on!" said Rena, dragging him over to the table. They were handed a ball each by the masked priests, and Rena led him to a stream. Burning torches were erected every few metres, creating orbs of amber in the deep blue night. People were kneeling on the riverbank, whispering to the cotton before setting it afloat down the river.

"You pray to Oyashiro-sama, and set it down the river," Rena instructed.

"Yes, ma'am," Henry said, before reciting the prayer.

Back at the shrine, Rika's eyes gradually became unfocussed, but at once more focussed. It was as though she was looking at something only she could see.

"Follow him," was all she said, in a voice much older than she was.

"So, what's the significance of the cotton?"

"It draws the corruption and sin from your body," she said matter-of-factly. Rena seemed to be an encyclopaedia on all things to do with Oyashiro-sama.

Rena shivered. "It's getting cold, Henry-kun. Shall we go home?"

"You can, Rena. I'm alright for now."

"Are you sure?"

Henry nodded. In fact, he wasn't alright. All he could think about was the mysterious Oyashiro-sama, his yearly curse, and who this year's victims would be.

He thought he felt something touch his shoulder. He looked around. There was no-one behind him. It felt weird. It felt … cold. Henry pulled on his jacket; he'd taken it off earlier because he grew too hot in the June heat. He guessed it must have been the wind.

It was much later before he moved again. Slowly, deliberately, like a behemoth awaking for the first time in a thousand years, he got to his feet. He turned, and strode purposefully into the night, the crunch of his feet on the gravelly riverbank like gunshots in the stillness of the twilight.

_ "Miyo, why did you bring me all the way out here?"_

_ "Shush, Jirou. I didn't want anybody to find us."_

_ I watch as the couple came into view. I am hiding in the very heart of the woods, behind a bush, spying. The tall man with the cap and glasses appears, followed by a young, shapely woman with blonde hair and chestnut-brown eyes. She is wearing a green jacket and slim grey trousers, with a yellow flower brooch on her lapel._

_ My mouth grows slick as I watch. They are clueless._

_ "Miyo, surely this is far enough. Why did you want to come out here?"_

_ 'Miyo' giggles girlishly. "Because out here, no-one can hear us."_

_ Are you kidding? I'm right here. Stupid girl._

_ I wait for my moment. I can't appear too soon. I have to be patient._

_ "Jirou, what do you know about the curse of Oyashiro-sama?"_

_ My ears burn. Oyashiro-sama?_

_ "Only what the police have released. And I know that the next murders are going to take place tonight."_

_ I slip my hands into my pockets, pulling out the two cooking knives I took from a stand at the festival. People can be so careless. They are good; twelve inches of stainless steel, and brand new by the looks of it. There are no scratches on the shining blades, nor are the blades blunted. My blood lurched with anticipation. It is time._

_ Oh yes. There will be murder tonight._

_ I give the branches of the bush a rustle to distract the targets._

_ "Who's there?" asks Miyo, in a faintly amused voice, as though this is some silly prank._

_ How wrong she is._

_ With a cry of fury, I pounce, utilising every ounce of strength in my legs to propel me forward. I collide with the man's chest, bringing him to the ground. I decide to bring down the man first; he is bigger and stronger than I am._

_ My momentum threw me off him, though, and I heard him yell, "Miyo, go home!"_

_ I turn round, and screech with animal rage. As I lunge at him again, I hear a snap and a brilliant magnesium-flare of light fill my vision in my left eye. I lash out, blinded but hungry for blood. My knives flash through the air in scarlet arcs, slicing his arms and chest. There is, to my shame, no co-ordination to my attack, but it does the trick. The man collapse to his knees, exhausted from blood loss. I kick him hard in the jaw and he falls onto his back. I kneel on his chest._

_ "What are you doing?" he stammer, too weak to fight back._

_ A smile slides over my lips like an oil slick. I bare my teeth, running my tongue over them and relishing the shape._

_ "Oh no," he whimpers. "Don't … don't do this -"_

_ How pathetic._

_ He is cut short as I plunge my fangs into his stubbly throat, tearing out his windpipe with a tremendous wrench. His hands fly to the gaping wound in reflex, and he is wheezing desperately to get oxygen to his brain._

_ He is dead by the time I tore off his vest, relishing the tenderness of his chest flesh, the chewy toughness of his arms._

_ Meat. The joy of the kill._

_ I stop suddenly; I'd just remembered. Miyo, too, had to die. My hunger could last a little while longer._

_ I watch her car roll into the drive. A huge puddle is spreading on her garden path. The matches in my hand. The diesel-soaked torch._

_ Takano Miyo steps into the puddle, and I know it is time. I cough, and step out of the shrubbery. She looks up, and I see not fear in her eyes; I see acceptance._

_ "You've done well."_

_ That is all she said before the torch ignited the fumes from the puddle. I run from the scene, leaving Takano as a shrieking funeral pyre._


	3. Investigation

When Henry arrived at school the next morning, a very glum atmosphere had fallen on not only the children but also Chie-sensei the teacher.

"Come on, guys; lighten up! You look like someone's died!"

"Erm …" said Chie.

Henry's post-festival euphoria evaporated instantly. "Oh, damn," he said. "Someone hasn't …"

Shion nodded soberly. "We got the news about half and hour ago. Tomitake-san and Takano-san were both murdered last night."

Henry sat down, feeling really bad. He couldn't believe it. _Two_ murders? He thought Oyashiro-sama only killed one and made another disappear. Tomitake was looking alright the previous night. How could he suddenly have died?

"Sorry," he said guiltily. "I didn't know."

"That's okay," said Keiichi. "It's hit us all pretty bad."

"They both died?"

"We don't know the details, but they managed to identify both bodies."

"When you've all finished," called Chie, silencing the hushed conversations. "There's someone here who'd like to see you."

The door slid open, and a large man with neat grey hair, a black shirt, beige trousers, a red tie and suspenders entered the room.

"How're you doing, kids?" he said in a voice that screamed lung cancer. "My name's Detective Ooishi, for those of you who don't know me. I work with the Okinomiya Police Department.

"I'm here with regards to the murders of Jirou Tomitake and Miyo Takano. I will wish to speak to all of you individually, so if you have anything that may help the investigation, please tell me."

Ooishi interviewed the children in pairs. Henry was interviewed last, along with Shion.

"So, I'll put it to you guys straight; you're old enough to handle this sort of thing.

"Jirou Tomitake was attacked first. The murderer must have jumped him, because Tomitake-san was no pushover in a fight."

Ooishi pulled a number of photos from a cardboard file. All showed an image from some kind of horror movie. Tomitake was lying on his back, clutching a ragged hole where his throat should have been. His body was covered in slashes and tears and chunks of missing flesh. Shion looked ready to faint, and Henry felt ready to puke. The blood had pooled around the body like a shiny crimson backdrop.

"We're not yet sure how he died; blood loss, oxygen deprivation, or drowning."

"Drowning?" asked Shion with a laugh. "On dry land?"

Ooishi, clearly, did not see it as a laughing matter. "His lungs were full of blood. In practise, this would have a very similar effect to drowning in water. It wasn't just that; his body had lost several pints of blood, and he sure as hell wouldn't be able to walk _that_ off."

"Surely it's obvious?" asked Henry, pointed to the dark hole in his throat. "He ran out of oxygen. All the others must have happened afterwards."

"It's possible that a large animal predated the corpse, attracted by the smell of blood. At least, that's what we _thought_. But we found tooth-marks around the bites. The shape told us they were human, and the structure and size of the jaw told us it belonged to a young adult or teenager."

Henry realised that Ooishi had fixed him with a piercing stare, and sensed that, despite his kind words and likeable air, he was actually quite sinister. Henry laughed derisively.

"Wait a sec … you think _I_ did this?"

"You seem unusually well-informed, son. It could be you."

"I just happen to know a bit about human anatomy. I went straight home after the ceremony."

"Can anyone back up that alibi?" Ooishi asked, with the air of one who has the suspect cornered.

"I can," said Shion firmly. Henry looked at her, but realised what was happening. _She's covering for me_. "Me and Henry went to his place, had a cup of tea, and then went I home. I found him just after Rena went home. I understand she was with you beforehand?"

"Oh … yeah, sure. Ask her if you don't believe us."

"Okay, say I believe you. For now. Do you know _who_ did this?"

"No, we didn't see anyone suspicious."

Ooishi grunted to show he understood. "By the way, Miyo Takano was killed by incineration. It seemed she was burnt to death by standing in a puddle of burning diesel."

"Which means?"

"We know it was murder. Someone broke into her garage and stole a jerry can, sloshed it over the garden, the set fire to it. It's unlikely that she burned herself. We only just managed to scrape up enough bits to identify the body."

"How?" asked Shion. "She was deep fried."

"A neighbour heard the screams and the flames, and put it out before the fire got out of control. Unfortunately, Takano-san was dead long before the fire died."

"I remember seeing those two together!" said Shion suddenly. "This was before the festival. Maybe they got back together afterwards?"

"That's possible. It could be that the killer dispatched Tomitake-san … and then got Takano-san in order to stop her blabbing. It's possible that she saw who the killer, and they didn't want to be revealed."

Ooishi fixed with that piercing stare again. "And what makes you suggest that?"

"I'm a fan of murder-mystery stories. I even write a couple of my own. I try to work out the enemy's motives, and build on that."

Ooishi shook his head sadly. "I'd like to believe you, son. But there's something about you I find suspicious."

Henry finally lost his temper. He kicked back his chair, stood over the old man and thumped his fist on the desk.

"Is it because I'm an outsider?" he roared. "I don't belong? I only got here a week ago, but I'll be damned if I don't do everything in my power to solve this and help the village! I don't _like_ the idea of a murderer running loose in the village!"

"Henry," whispered Shion. "Sit down. You're attracting attention."

He looked around, fury pounding in his temples. The whole class was staring at him as though he was going to explode. He sat back down, but glared at Ooishi. He decided he didn't like this man one bit. He fought to gain control of his hatred. He began breathing deeply, rocking back and forth, staring at his lap. He could taste the sweaty iron tang of blood in his mouth; he must've bitten his tongue. Eventually he looked up again, still breathing deeply. Shion was looking at him with a mixture of hesitance and awe. Ooishi looked faintly amused.

"Forgive me, Ooishi-ojisama. I shouldn't have lost my temper," he said meekly.

"Relax, kid. I'm tough enough to handle being shouted at. If you want to help, I suggest you have a look at this."

It was a single Polaroid; freshly developed by the look of it. It only featured a single object; an eye.

"This is the only piece of visual evidence as to the identification of our murderer. Tell me; is there anything _odd_ about it?"

Henry looked harder. It was the same colour of corroded copper; a sickly shade of clinical green that actually looked like an ancient coin. Streaks of coppery brown radiated from the pupil. The pupil was long and slitted, but had a pure white core. Around the iris was a single, thin band of hell-fire green, almost glowing. One thing was for certain …

"This isn't a human eye. If I didn't know better, I'd say this was the eye of Oyashiro-sama."

"It is human, alright. Not like any human I've ever seen, but human nonetheless. Why else would they kill Miyo Takano, rather than spiriting her away?"

"I don't know," Henry admitted, deflating slightly.

Ooishi grunted, and waved them away.

At the end of the day, Henry ran into Ooishi outside.

"Ahh, Henry-kun. Can I speak to you quietly for a moment?"

"Sure."

"How about we chat in my car? It's got air conditioning."

"No, I don't want to go to your car, you creep. We can talk out here, or not at all. I'm supposed to be meeting someone."

Ooishi chuckled, and placed his hand on Henry's shoulder. And squeezed. _Hard_. Henry gasped in pain; he didn't realise how much strength the portly man actually had.

"Listen to me, kid. Don't talk to me like that again."

Henry refused to break eye contact. Ooishi squeezed his shoulder harder.

"You don't want me to be your enemy, son. Do you?"

"What the hell does it matter to you?" he growled back through gritted teeth, still staring at Ooishi.

"All I want is to solve this case. Get it?"

"Get this!" he hissed, grabbing the man's wrist and digging his sharp thumbnail into the soft flesh. Ooishi gasped in surprise and pain, and unhanded him. He grasped his wrist, and Henry could see blood trickling between his fingers. A sliver of crimson glistened of his nail, and he licked it off.

He glared Ooishi down. "Don't touch me again, Ooishi-san. You don't want me to be your enemy, do you?" He turned on his heel, leaving the detective clutching his wrist.

"Hey, Henry!" called Shion. She was a little way down the road, and had obviously stopped to wait for him. "What did Ooishi want?"

"Nothing much. Why'd you wait?"

"I'm going over yours."

"Isn't it polite to ask first?"

"I covered for you."

"You didn't need to."

"I trust you did go straight home yesterday?"

"Yeah, how stupid do you think I am?"

"At least I'm not harbouring a fugitive. Anyhow, you owe me a cuppa."

"I've got a guest tonight."

"So?"

Henry and Shion had only been in for ten minutes before the doorbell rang again. Henry, now changed into a black shirt and cargo trouser, went to answer it.

"WHASSUP!" yelled the person on the other side.

"WHAAASSSUUP!" Henry replied. He knew who it was in an instant; only one person would greet him with 'Whassup'. He opened the door fully let the guest in. He had scruffy brown hair, was easily a foot taller than Henry, and wore a pair of black-rimmed specs. He was Charlie Offley, one of Henry's best friends back in England.

"Bet you're surprised to see me," he said, pulling off his trainers.

"Yeah, you could say that. I was just about to put the kettle on; d'you want a cuppa?"

"Might as well."

As he re-entered the 'kitchen', he realised that Shion was looking at him as though he was slightly mad.

"Cut me some slack. It's an inside thing."

Charlie followed him in. His eyes automatically took in the half-unpacked kitchen. "How long have you been here?"

"A week. I've been busy with IB stuff lately."

Then Charlie noticed Shion. "Who's this?"

Shion stood up and bowed. "Shion Sonozaki. Pleased to meet you."

"I'm Charlie. Well, Henry; didn't know you were this popular with the ladies."

"Pack it in. Do you take milk?"

"Yeah."

"Shion?"

She looked up at Henry. "Pardon?"

"Do you want milk in your tea? It's only English tea, I'm afraid."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Henry finished making the tea, and set the cups on the table. "So, what's the news from Blighty?" he asked Charlie.

"Well, I've emigrated here, actually. I've got a job at the Irie Clinic just outside the village."

"Already?" asked Henry. Charlie had only just left school, having finished his A-levels. "Why here?"

"Partly 'cos you said it was so nice here. Partly 'cos they needed a surgeon."

"Why?" asked Henry and Shion in unison.

"The murders. They need someone to do the post-mortem."

"So you're on the investigation team?" asked Shion.

Charlie nodded, and sipped his tea. Henry's face darkened.

"What's up with you?"

"He doesn't like Detective Ooishi very much."

"I'm not surprised," said Charlie reflectively. "He's a hard man to get on with when it comes to the Hinamizawa murders."

"You know about them?" Henry asked.

"I'm on the team; I've read the case files."

"I think he suspects me." Henry said darkly.

"He distrusts anyone who may be suspicious. Even I'm not entirely clean," Shion pointed out.

"Why?"

"I started an affair with a teacher at my old school so I could break out," she said proudly. "Some people are so easy to manipulate."

Henry cocked an eyebrow, but said no more. It wasn't his business. "So what about Ooishi-san? Why doesn't he trust anyone?"

Charlie set down his teacup. "Since the first year, he's been in charge of the investigation. The shrine leader in the third was actually a friend of his. Every year, it's always the same; a death, a disappearance, and no clue how to move on. Every year, he gets more desperate, more zealous to solve the mystery. Even if he can solve just one, he can avenge at least one of the deaths, and bring the guilty to justice. Possibly with a bullet in their skull."

"What?"

"Like I said, he's ruthless now. This year is Ooishi Kuraudo's last year of service before he retires; he's more adamant than ever to bring this case to a close."

Henry shook the thoughts from his head. "So, what's the progress with the investigation?"

"We found no trace of illicit substances in the body of Jirou Tomitake, or any drug at that. It was murder that killed him. His posture implied that his hands went to his throat before he died, which implied that his throat was torn out by the killer's own teeth. The eye photo has been analysed by our best computer, but we are no closer to guessing who or what it belongs to."

"What ever it was, I doubt it was a demon … or Oyashiro-sama," said Shion. "If it is, he's been getting sloppy. He hasn't made these mistakes the last few years. The tooth marks, the unsuccessful disposal of Takano-san ... It must be a human; a god wouldn't make these mistakes."

"If that's so," said Henry, "then I hope they catch this guy soon. From what I've heard, Oyashiro-sama only took two victims every year. What's to say a person won't take more? We know they're a psycho."

"By the way, I was told to rally anyone I could," added Charlie suddenly, as though he had just remembered. "We're meeting at the Furude Shrine at eight o'clock tonight. We're going to try and find the murderer."


	4. When The Higurashi Cry

It looked like most of the adults in the village had gathered at the shrine that evening, all looking grim but determined. Policemen weaved in and out of the crowd, issuing instructions.

"Henry-kun, over here!" called a voice he didn't recognise. It belonged to a tall, young man with shoulder-length brown hair and frameless glasses. He was standing at the edge of the group with Rena, Mion, Shion, Rika and Satoko.

Henry walked over. The sun was setting fast, and the haunting chirps of the higurashi made him feel tense. The whole thing seemed like a bad idea.

"We haven't met, have we? My name's Dr. Irie. I work at the local clinic."

"Hi," said Henry. "Why have we been called out at this hour?"

"Okay, here's the plan: We're going to split into pairs and search the woods. Ooishi-san thinks that we should be safe, so long as we're not alone. Each pair will have a radio, so we can all keep in touch."

"Hang on a minute; why are we searching the woods?"

"The Detective reckons that the killer won't run far, especially not if he's planning on killing more."

"What if the killer is one of us?" asked Keiichi.

"If one of each pair dies and another disappears, it is logical to assume that the runner is our killer."

"What?!" yelled Henry. "That sounds like sacrifice!"

Irie shook his head sadly. "I agree. But these are Ooishi-san's orders, not mine. We need to split into pairs now, and we need monikers. That way, the killer shouldn't know who we're talking to or about on the radios."

"I have a bad feeling about this," muttered Henry.

Irie ignored him. "Mion, you take Shion. Keiichi, you go with Rena. I'll look after Satoko. Henry, are you okay with taking Rika?"

"I guess." After all, how much trouble could someone as sensible as Rika get up to?

They split up, but Henry could see the lancing beams of brilliant light from the powerful torches they brought with them. He gave Rika the radio.

"You take this, I'll take the torch."

"Why?"

"Because," said Henry, flicking the switch, and plunging the forest into sudden darkness. The haunting cries of the higurashi were all that punctuated the encroaching night.

"Why'd you do that?" asked Rika indignantly, but he noted that Rika's voice had dropped to little more than a whisper.

"If we're trying to identify a murderer, the last thing we want is several thousand candlepower announcing our presence. Give it a sec; you'll get use to the dark."

No longer washed out by the harsh torchlight, the evening forest was a deep blend of blues and greys. Fleeting spots of yellow in the distance were all they could see of the other search parties.

"Better?"

"Mii."

"Right; stay close, it's going to be easy to lose each other."

They traipsed through the woods for an hour. And another. The sun had set by now, and the last of the light was fading rapidly. The lights of the others had flickered around every now and then, but the dense forest cover meant that it felt to the two like they were completely on their own. Henry shivered involuntarily, and had anyone been able to see it would look like a jolt of electricity running down his neck. He felt as though all kinds of bad things were likely to happen. He needed to break the deathly silence; all the made a sound were the chirrups of the higurashi.

"Rika, do you know much about Oyashiro-sama's curse?"

"A little," she said in a slightly hoarser voice than he had heard before. She sounded much older than the naive 12-year-old he'd come to know.

"Do you know how he chooses who to kill each year? Is there a motive?"

"They say he kills enemies of Hinamizawa. Those who break his laws."

"Laws?"

"No-one enters the village from the outside. No-one leaves the village. No-one threatens the village."

"No-one ... enters?" asked Henry calmly, but he was screaming on the inside. _What if it's me next?_

"Most people say the victims are enemies of the village, though. The dam worker. The couple who fell to their death were apparently supporters of the dam project, but I was quite young then." Still, Rika's voice had that strange haunting quality.

_Is she trying to scare me?_

_ Something follows in their footsteps, something not quite real but not quite imaginary. It looks at its mistress. It isn't sure what its order means. Follow him. The young man seems somehow innocuous to it, except for the fact that his body is almost burning with raw, red power. It shines through cracks in his fragile flesh husk, like magma. It shakes its head, long lilac hair swishing with the sound of a lonely breeze through the canopy of leaves above. The glow has vanished. It guesses that it must have been seeing things._

All of a sudden, a terrible wailing sound filled the woods, so disorientating that Henry couldn't tell where it came from. He and Rika both froze. Henry flashed the torched as the noise died down. There was nothing.

"What was that?" he asked quietly. He felt uncharacteristically tense. _There must be a rational explanation for all this._

"Maybe it was the demon?" Rika suggested, her normal voice this time.

"Whatever it was, it was definitely human. I think it came from over there," he said, pointing the torch. It seemed to have come form the very heart of the woods. "Come on, and stay close."

They flicked off the light and ran through the dark, stumbling on roots and rocks.

"Wait, Henry! I can't run as fast as you!"

Henry looked back, and immediately felt a plummeting sensation. He tumbled down the slope, crashing to the ground bruised, battered and muddy. He'd tripped down a steep gorge of some kind.

Rika caught up soon after. She skidded down the sheer bank with practised ease. To be fair, she'd been in Hinamizawa for her whole life. Henry barely scraped more than a week.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I think –" he began, getting to his feet, but soon crumpled. The pain in his ankle was incredible; he'd twisted it, at the very least. He groaned in pain. "My ankle's gone, hang on a minute."

"But –" she said. The horrible wailing, however, cut her off. It seemed to be just up the other bank, and it was much louder now.

"I'm going to check it out," she declared.

"You're kidding?" asked Henry incredulously.

"Nipaa," she replied, beaming. Henry, however, wasn't.

"You are _not_ going up there alone. D'you understand? Wait up a sec, and I'll come too. Just let my ankle recover."

Rika looked in his eyes, her eyes no longer their usual purple, but empty black holes, drawing any ease in his soul away. "I'll be fine," she said in that voice that sounded older than the forest. Older than Hinamizawa, possibly. "It is better if you do not fight fate."

And with that, she turned her heel, scrabbled up the other bank. The higurashi screamed their own warnings. Henry felt an absolute coldness on his shoulder as he tried to get again. It felt like something ran past him. He took a shaky step, but fell flat on his face again. He felt strangely hollow inside, like something was missing.

The sudden silence made him look up. Even the cicadas were silent. Henry knew that silences held more words than anything else.

_AAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaa –_

A piercing scream filled Henry's ears, gurgling and petering into silence. Henry felt a cold sweat drench his body. It was the most terrible sound he could have heard at that moment; more so than the wailing or the haunting, disquieting higurashi cries.

"Rika!" he called, praying to Oyashiro-sama for her childish voice to respond, her face to peer over the bank. The heavens opened, fat raindrops pelting him like a god's tears.

"RIKAAA!"

"Henry!" someone shouted somewhere to his left. It was Keiichi, though. Not Rika. "Are you alright?"

"It should have been me," Henry choked, fighting the urge to cry. It seemed to childish, but it was all he wanted to do. "You should have got me!"

"What was that?" asked Keiichi, bursting through the undergrowth.

"IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!" Henry screamed to the storm clouds, screeching with inhuman abandon.

"Where's Rika-chan?" asked Rena, appearing soon after, her white dress and silk bows hanging limp and sodden. She looked truly bedraggled.

"Up … up there …" was all Henry could say on the matter, struggling to his feet once more.

"What's wrong with you?" Keiichi asked, catching Henry as he nearly collapsed again.

"I think I sprained my ankle or something. That's why Rika ran off ahead."

"Rena thinks we should go check."

"Good idea," said Keiichi, pulling out the radio and tossing it to Rena.

"Medic, Medic; can you hear me? Oh, its you, Traps. This is Nata. Miko's been hit. Me and K1 found Newbie … yes, we'll shine our torch up … okay, get here ASAP, and tell Angel and Demon while you're at it."

The parties crashed through the undergrowth. Keiichi, Rena and Henry stood in a small clearing about a few hundred metres from the gorge. Henry looked incredible pale and likely to throw up, and the other two looked very shaken. Henry had his hands behind his back, and looked like a naughty school kid.

"Okay, kids; where's Furude-san?" asked Ooishi, his belly preceding him into the torchlight. Behind him was Charlie, grumbling in English about being paired with 'the fat guy'.

"I wish we could give you a sensible answer," said Henry croakily, staring at his feet.

"What do you mean, Parkinson-kun?" asked Dr Irie.

"She's right there," said Keiichi, pointing at a nearby bush.

"And over there," said Rena, pointing at a small patch of ferns.

"And over there," added Henry, nodding at a sickly blackish-red mess slowly sliding down a tree next to Satoko, who recoiled in horror.

"And over there …"

"And over there …"

"Over there …"

"Up there …"

"And a little bit over there."

"Hey, guys; you missed a bit," added Charlie, pulling a smashed and torn hunk of flesh from the branches of a nearby tree.

"How do you even know this is Rika?" asked Mion and Shion incredulously. "How could you possibly identify the body?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," said Henry with a dry little chuckle. "We know it's Rika." He brought into view what was behind his back with a look of unspeakable sadness on his face.

Cradled in his arms was the largest piece of the body they could find. Hair like tentacles, slicked with blood, splayed and tangled around his arms. Eyes wide open, gazing at the crowd and at the same time nothing of this earth. A mouth open in a scream no-one can hear but Henry; her final scream circling his brain like an alarm bell.

It was the severed head of Furude Rika.


	5. Master of Puppets

Charlie took the head from Henry, who went back to staring at his feet.

"Cool," he said, inspecting the head in the torchlight.

"Charlie," said Henry quietly, "you're doing that whole insensitive thing again."

"No, seriously," he said. "It takes a hell of a lot of strength to decapitate a person by hand; there is no evidence of any form of blade being used."

"Stop it! Just stop it!" screamed Satoko, running into the bushes. A thick spattering sound could be heard, and Dr Irie went to investigate.

"Okay, people; best you all go home," said Ooishi, though his eyes flicked to Henry with a very nasty look. "No point standing around. The police can deal with this."

Henry felt someone pull him aside. It was Shion.

"Henry," she said gravely, her face shocked as well as serious. "What happened? Did you …?"

"No," he said flatly. He felt crushed. "I didn't kill Rika-chan. She ran off ahead, and I couldn't get there quickly enough to stop the … the …" His words fell dead, and he shook his head. He felt sick, and he felt guilty, talking about Rika. It wasn't fair; _he_ was the one that couldn't run away, _he _should have been the target.

"Ooishi's certain it was you. Say what you like, he'll be on your ass for sure now."

"I didn't do it," Henry murmured as though it was a mantra. As though it would bring her back. "Ooishi can do what he likes. I want to find this killer, and I want to destroy him like he destroyed Rika."

They all filed out of the clearing in silence. It was nearly midnight by then. Henry pedalled home as fast as he could, leaving Keiichi and Rena in the dust. He got in, leapt onto his mattress fully clothed, and screamed himself to sleep.

_It should have been me … it should have been me …_

The phone was ringing. Bleary-eyed, Henry fumbled around for the handset.

"Good morning, Parkinson-san," said a rasping voice that suggested the morning would soon be anything but good.

"Ooishi-san?" asked Henry, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stifling a yawn. He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was still dark.

"Not interrupting your beauty sleep, am I?"

"Ooishi-san, it's half past three. What do you think?"

"I do apologise. I've heard some interesting stories from Maebara-san already."

_He's already spoken to Keiichi_. "What is it you wanted?"

"Just to ask a few questions. Could you come over to the Okinomiya Police Station? My car seems to be about to run out of petrol."

_Typical._ "Ooishi-san, forgive me, but I've just woken up, and I've been asleep about two hours. I fear I may be a bit of a road hazard."

"No traffic this time in the morning. The rest of your little gang are already on their way. Don't want to miss the party do you?" Ooishi barked out a laugh the grated Henry's ears.

"Fine. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"That's the spirit, kid."

Henry slammed the handset down, breaking out into a cold sweat. _What could he possibly want from me?  
_

Ooishi was right about one thing; the roads were clear. Henry got to Okinomiya quickly, but nearly fell asleep trying to chain his bike to a lamppost.

"Hey, Hen-chan!" called someone cheerfully, albeit tiredly, behind him.

That woke him up. "DON'T CALL ME HEN!" he roared, whirling round. Mion was standing outside the police station, and she looked as though she was about to start crying. Henry felt sick with himself. _Smooth, Henry. Smooth_.

"Sorry, Mion, but I hate being called Hen."

Mion stared at him, and stormed in without another word. Henry growled in frustration and kicked one of the concrete pillars that held the porch up. Hot pain welled in his throbbing toes. Why was the whole world so _stupid_? He punched the pillar several times, glad that every time he did so the pain in his knuckles grew. Each punch and kick took him one step closer to feeling anywhere near the pain that Rika had felt in those horrible seconds.

"Henry, what are you doing?" asked a voice that was probably Shion.

Henry turned, sucking the blood from his knuckles. His fingers were starting to turn crimson as blood dribbled from the grazes. "Argument with a pillar. Got a problem with that?" he replied, perhaps unnecessarily coldly.

Shion's expression and stance told him that something was wrong. That combination of scowl and folded arms never did mean anything good. "Why'd you shout at my sis like that?"

"She called me Hen. And Sonozaki Mion already knows not to call me that."

Shion gave him a hefty slap; a lightning flash of stinging pain in the right hand side of his face. "Don't talk to her like that again. Mion's feeling really screwed up right now; you didn't exactly help."

Henry deflated. It was as though that slap cleared his vision. "I'm sorry. I guess we all feel bad about Rika. I must have just been too snappy."

Shion's expression softened. "Well, I guess I can let you off this time. Ooishi's interrogating us as to what happened last night."

"So why are you out here?"

"We're being interrogated individually. Rena's in there now. We've got a while before one of us is called in. But there is one thing I want to ask you."

"It's whether I killed Rika-chan or not, isn't it?"

"Well … yes. Look, if you did do it, just turn yourself in now before it all gets bad. I won't pretend that I like the idea, but we're your friends; we'll help you in any way we can."

_Yeah, right. Friends. They've never stood up for me before. Why start now?_ "I don't care whether this all goes to hell in a hand-basket. I didn't kill Rika. No human could do that in ten seconds. My guess is that it was some wild animal, though I can't say where it came from."

"You swear you didn't?"

"Even if I did, what could _you_ do, Shion?" Henry snapped, temper throbbing in his temples. "Have _you _ever killed or mutilated your friends? No. But I swear, if I find the killer, I will give him the justice he deserves."

What a pity it was Henry couldn't read minds. If he could, he would have seen a hazy half-memory in Shion's head. A girl with a green ponytail in a bloodstained kimono, a crimson dagger in her fist. Mion's tortured, tormented screams from what sounds like the bowels of the earth. A barely distinguishable child's corpse slumping forward, chained to a rough hardwood crucifix.

A tear rolled from Shion's eye. She shook the thought from her head. It _didn't _happen.

Did it?

"It doesn't matter," she said. Henry breathed slowly. He could tell something was very wrong, but he didn't get the chance to say. As they went inside, another person entered from another room. A person with bright ginger hair and was visibly shaking with terror.

"Rena!" Shion cried, running over to her. Rena looked as though she was ready to faint.

"Parkinson-san," asked the police officer who had followed Rena in from presumably the interrogation room. "Detective Ooishi will see you now."

"I'm coming," Henry replied, heart heavy, following him down the corridor.

The interrogation room was barely more than two or three square metres. Henry studied psychology, and could probably work out why; to make the suspect feel cramped and as such less powerful. The portly detective was sitting on the far side of the desk, and there was a bright lamp on the desktop and two filing cabinets in terms of decoration. Henry sat down at the desk, not shifting his cold stare from Ooishi's face.

He knew this trick, too; place the suspect with his back to the door, and thus keep escape out of sight. Henry would probably be happier if he didn't know too much for his own good. There were two things he wanted to know right now; who killed Rika, Tomitake and Takano, and where they were now.

It was a long while before Ooishi broke the cool silence. "I may have introduced to you yesterday, but I hope you don't mind if I do so again."

"Go on," said Henry as impassively as he could.

"My name is Ooishi Kuraudo, detective in charge of the investigation of the Hinamizawa murders."

Only now did Henry scan the room, but made it look as though he was pleasantly interested with the blank walls.

Not blank. On one of the side walls had a large mirror.

_Two-way mirror. Someone's watching us. Gotta act as though I don't know._

"I just want to ask you a few questions about last night," Ooishi continued, pulling a cigarette from its little cardboard box.

Henry grimaced in disgust as he lit it. "Do you always have a box of fags on you?"

"Damn right I do."

"Well, can you not smoke in here? I hate the smell, and passive smoking's worse for your health than direct smoking."

"No. I'll smoke if I want to."

Henry coughed loudly. But in that he muttered, in English, 'lung cancer'.

"I wouldn't advise insulting me, kid. I do understand English, you know."

"Damn. I guess I'd better speak gibberish, then," Henry said sarcastically. "Feegle blargh hoojy taddlewod?"

Ooishi nearly smiled. "Could you take this seriously?"

"Then can you stop smoking? An eye for an eye."

Ooishi let out another booming laugh, and if there was any actual mirth in it Henry would eat the Furude Shrine. "I like the way you bargain, Parkinson-san," he said, grinding the cigarette into the ashtray.

"Thank you," said Henry, bowing his head slightly. "Now what did you ask?"

"What happened last night?"

"No beating around the bush, then? Very well; yesterday. After you assaulted me at the school, I invited Shion over my place, and then Charlie came over, and … by the way, I take it you interrogated him?"

Ooishi stumbled. He hadn't expected that. "Of course. And cut the crap; I mean the search."

Henry rolled his eyes theatrically. "Fine. We were told to split up to cover more ground. We were put into pairs, me with Rika."

"Maebara-san told me you turned off the torch. Why?"

"I told Rika this yesterday. We were trying to find a murderer. Do we really want several thousand candlepower telling him exactly where we were?"

"Fine. Continue."

"We heard that weird screaming noise, and I ran off to find out what it was. Rika tried to follow, but I was too fast. She called out to get me to slow down, and I looked back. That was when I fell down the slope. I sprained my ankle then; ask Dr Irie if you don't believe me. Rika caught up then. We heard the scream again, and Rika ran off to investigate. I told her to wait until I could go too. It was too risky. But Rika ran up, and that's when I knew that she was going to die. It was when she screamed that Keiichi and Rena found me. By the time we got up there, Rika was all over the place."

"Did you have any kind of weapon on you last night?"

"No, unless you count the torch."

"Did you eat or drink anything before coming out?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"I ask the questions, son. Not you."

"Two rice balls and a glass of water."

"Do you take any kind of drug?"

"No."

"Do you suspect that Furude-san had?"

"No."

"Was Furude-san acting abnormally last night?"

"Now you mention it, something about her seemed … odd. She kept muttering to herself, and before she died she was talking in a really weird voice. Not silly; she sounded … old. Old as the hills. Not senile old, but wise old. I could just be imagining things, though. I mean, how does someone's whole character change in three seconds?"

"What did she say?"

"She said she'd be fine. But what's weird is that she told me not to fight fate. It's like she knew that she was going to die."

"Did you kill Furude-san?"

"No."

"Did Furude-san ask you to kill her?"

"No!"

"Did you do anything to Furude-san that would ultimately lead to her death?"

"No, damn it, no! Why don't you get it? I didn't kill her! Are you just adamant to pin the blame on me?"

"I don't understand what you're getting at, kid."

"I know you don't like me, Ooishi. I know you suspect me 'cos I'm the new kid who no-one knows anything about."

This last outburst earned him a punch in the face. He reeled back, half of his face dominated by the beginnings of a large purple bruise. Rage welled in him, but he forced it down; it would be wrong to retaliate.

"Maybe next time you should remember the –san," Ooishi said with a curt smile. He got to his feet. "I can see I'm not going to get anything out you. Stay put."

He walked around Henry, and Henry could hear the door open and shut. A muffled conversation on the other side. The door opened again. The person who walked around the desk wasn't Ooishi. It was Charlie.

"Hey, Henry," he said.

Henry just sat there, arms folded, a hard stare on his face.

"Look, I didn't ask for this. They just think you're more likely to talk if I interrogate you."

Nothing.

"I don't think for a moment that you did it, Henry."

Still nothing.

"Will you please say something?"

"I believe I have the right to remain silent."

"Well, yeah."

"He can still hear and see me, can't he?"

"What makes you say that?"

Henry picked up the ashtray. There was a slim disc underneath. A microphone.

"There's one in the lampshade too, I think. But I can't check 'cos it hurts my eyes." He jerked a thumb at the mirror. "Two-way mirror." He turned to face the mirror and gave a cheery wave, before diverting his attention back to Charlie. "It's so obvious, I'm surprised the others haven't guessed. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"We want to help you, Henry."

"I didn't do it. You can ask me that until the sky falls down on our heads, the answer won't change. Try me."

Charlie sighed. He mimed slashing his throat at the mirror. "Guys, he didn't do it. We can't get any more out of him."

"Finally; someone gets it."

"Henry-kun!" someone called to him as he left the police station a while later. Ooishi deemed it important to grill him a few more times, but nothing came from it.

Henry looked around. Dawn had finally come around, and a tired-looking Rena was waving at him.

"Have you been waiting for me all this time?"

"Hmm," she said, nodding.

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to. Wanted to."

"Right. Whatever."

"I told the detective that you didn't do it, Henry-kun."

"Thanks," he said, ruffling her hair. "I guess I have an ally after all."

"We heard you last night, Henry-kun. You were screaming like your life depended on it."

"Was I?"

"Yep."

"I'm sure there was a reason for it. Sorry if it disturbed you."

"Keiichi-kun was really worried about you. We both were."

"Why was he worried?"

"We thought you might be hurting yourself because you couldn't save her."

"I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"So you don't think I did it?"

"You couldn't have. Besides, you're just like Satoko's nii-nii."

"Nii-nii? What's that mean?"

"Her older brother Satoshi, of course."

"Of course," Henry said, slapping himself for not working it out. The Japanese for older brother was onii-chan. He guessed nii-nii was a kind of pet name. "So, who was Satoshi, and why does it matter that I'm like him?"

"Satoshi transferred out of Hinamizawa about a year ago. It was shortly after I moved back in. All of a sudden, he transferred, and was never seen again."

"Transferred … a year ago?"

"After Satoko's parents died, they were taken in by their mean aunt and uncle. He ran away, afraid of the villager's hatred of his brother and children. She died not long after, and Satoko and Rika have lived together since."

"Her aunt died?" Henry finally slotted the pieces together. "Satoko's aunt died at last year's Watanagashi, and Satoshi was demoned away, right?"

Rena gasped, as though he had lifted the cover on a deep, dark secret. Henry scented danger, and backed out quickly.

"Sorry. I didn't know …"

"That's okay, Henry-kun. We don't like to talk about it that much. Satoshi was in our club, in our club."

"I didn't know that."

"Satoko thinks he transferred to test her strength. She relied on him to protect her when he was here, and it really made him sad. She's convinced to take any hardship in her stride until her nii-nii comes back."

"That's got to be really hard on Satoko."

"Shion, too," Rena mused. "She was very fond of Satoshi."

_That must be why they're always so tough. They've both loved and lost_.

"So why is it good that I'm like Satoshi? I can't _be_ him."

"Because Satoshi would never kill his friend or anyone else."

Evening. Henry sat on his bed, revising his psychology studies. Dinner lay abandoned and half-eaten next to him. Henry's mind wasn't on psychology, however; he read and re-read _The Three Faces of Eve_ without taking in more than that it was a woman with a form of multiple-personality disorder. What was on his mind was Shion, Satoko and this mysterious Satoshi.

Shion had loved Satoshi deeply, it seemed. Mion told him about it at the end of the club meeting when he raised the question. Satoshi had disappeared without trace just over a year ago, and Shion felt that her grandmother, Sonozaki Oryou, was responsible, due to her being the head of the Sonozaki family and as such most of Hinamizawa. But Oryou had known nothing about how or why 'the Hōjō brat' disappeared, and Shion had to pay for the insult by tearing out three of the fingernails on her left hand. Henry decided to stop then; he didn't want to know any more. All he knew was an indescribable, unexplainable hatred for Sonozaki Oryou and the barbaric torture Shion had had to suffer for the sake of her love for the village pariah.

His own fingernails begun to cut into the cover of the textbook. What was it with Hinamizawa? Murders, tortures, bullying, and everyone just putting on a brave face and carrying on with life.

The doorbell rang suddenly, piercing his thoughts like a scalpel. Henry snapped the book shut and glanced at the clock. He'd been revising longer than he'd thought; it was nine o' clock, and the sun had nearly set. Henry felt suddenly suspicious, he went to the kitchen, grabbing a pair of the sharpest kitchen knives he could and slipping them into his pockets. If it was the murderer, he wouldn't find it quite so easy to silence _him_.

He hid the knife handles under his t-shirt and opened the door. Detective Ooishi was standing outside, hiding under and umbrella from the steady worsening rain.

"Good evening, Parkinson-san."

"Ooishi-ojisama," said Henry, bowing. "Forgive me, I wasn't expecting a visitor tonight."

"We took into account what you said about wanting to help the investigation. You got your wish; there's been another murder."

Henry tensed. "How do you know this?"

"Our officer found the body on his regular patrol. Well, he heard cries of distress, and went to investigate. When he got there, it was too late. I want you to come help us investigate before the trail goes cold."

"Fine, I'll just clear up and I'll be with you."

Henry put what was left of the dinner in the fridge; he might eat it tomorrow. He put on his army-surplus camo jacket, slipped into his trainers and rejoined Ooishi on the porch.

"We'll take my car; it'll be quicker than walking."

"Fine."

"Here we are; this is as far as we can go by car."

They were quite far from the village, and easily out of sight of the main road. An ideal place for the killer to strike.

"It's about half a mile in," he said.

They walked into the forest, the higurashi screaming at them all the way.

"Whereabouts, Ooishi-san?"

"A bit further," he replied, wheezing.

Henry walked on, suspicious. There was no evidence of a struggle. Why would anyone come all the way out here anyway?

A metallic snapping behind him brought him to his senses.

"Don't look round," growled Ooishi behind him. "Raise your hands where I can see them."

It was the safety catch of a pistol he heard. He looked at his feet. A shallow grave had been dug so that it blended into the forest floor in the twilight.

Henry raised his hands, angry rather than scared. Very, _very_ angry. "What the heck are you on about?"

He could feel the cold round barrel of a revolver being pointed at the back of his skull. "I almost trusted you, kid. Did you kill Furude-san yourself, and cover it up? Or was it an accomplice?"

"I didn't kill Rika!"

"What I want to know is how you managed to get her to swallow a hand grenade?"

"What? That's ridiculous!"

"What else do you suggest could do that? Hmm? It doesn't matter either way. I'm going to shoot you, and bury you badly. Everyone will think you're just another murder victim."

"Oh, help me; the melodrama is killing me," Henry spat sarcastically. He felt an incredibly cold _something_ brush his elbow, but thought nothing of it. "Trademark flaw; never tell people what you're about to do to them, they're just empty words. If you're going to shoot me, do it. But promise me two things. Firstly, enlighten me as to how you're allowed to kill me."

"I'm preventing a greater evil."

"The law does not concern itself with motives. But I can deal with that myself." Henry felt the rage filter through every membrane in his body. "My second request is that you let me have my last words. Don't worry; it won't take long."

Ooishi invisibly sighed. "Fine, but make it quick."

_Don't worry, you fat bastard. It will be_.

Henry opened his mouth, inhaled … and let out the most cacophonic wail you could imagine. The banshee-like scream rattled Ooishi's eardrums and throbbed painfully in his head. Henry whipped one of the long, sharp blades from his pocket, spun round and plunged it straight through Ooishi's right forearm. Ooishi's own screams added to the din, and he dropped the gun. Henry kicked it into the bushes, and tripped the larger, heavier man, throwing him to the ground like an ugly rag doll. That second of confusion was he needed to pounce on the downed police detective. He pulled out his other knife, slashing and stabbing at Ooishi's chest and arms until he stopped screaming.

But still Henry carried on, eyes like ancient coins, his knife pounding into the warm flesh over and over. Henry screeched like a banshee, meting out his wrath upon the one so foolish as to cross him.

Eventually he stopped, holding the bloody blade two-handed like a sacrificial tool, panting as his rage cooled off. But the fire in his eyes wouldn't fade. It was time to teach the asshole a lesson.

Henry cut a single incision from Ooishi's sternum to his navel, tearing apart the abdominal muscle. He tugged at the old man intestines as though it was rope, wrenching the sickly, slippery tissue out. _It will make good strings._

Henry was soon finished. Ooishi was tied at the wrists and ankles to a tree's branches by his own innards like a gruesome marionette. He plucked the cigarette pack from Ooishi's pocket. He wouldn't be needing them any more, at any rate. But there was still something wrong with the image.

_The face. I need to put a smile on his face_.

Henry quickly dipped his fingers into one of the old man's wounds, painting the blood onto Ooishi's face into a grotesque parody of a clown's rictus. Red eye-shadow. A crimson teardrop on his cheek.

Henry wiped his brow, leaving a smear of blood on his forehead. He stood there for a moment, admiring his handiwork. Then he threw back his head and laughed, laughed like a madman, howls of laughter bouncing through the trees like a demon's choir among the higurashi.

_I've done it; I've beaten Ooishi! He tried to kill me and I beat him!_


	6. Confession

"Nice."

"Offley-san, you're being insensitive again."

"I can't help it; it _is_ an inventive way to kill someone."

It was the following morning. It turned out that someone found the body while walking their dog; it smelled the blood and decay. Naturally the police were called immediately, but Charlie and Dr Irie were the first on scene due to their proximity. Charlie was inspecting the gutted corpse with ill-disguised interest. Irie looked as though he was about to be sick from the smell.

Henry, Rena and Keiichi were just interested in why there were so many police cars running around Hinamizawa; they weren't quite expecting the disgusting sight that greeted them in the forest.

"What a way to go," murmured Henry, going slightly pale. "Our murderer seems to be trying to scare us with increasingly more gruesome deaths."

"So it seems, it seems."

"What have we got?" Henry asked Charlie.

"That's going to have to wait for the autopsy, I'm afraid. We found his gun in the bushes, so we know he was either trying to defend himself or shoot the killer first. Either way, he was overpowered. That's an achievement in itself; Ooishi was apparently quite a powerful man. He left a knife dug in Ooishi's right arm, but for some reason we can't lift a distinct print from it, nor any hair or skin traces."

"So, basically," said Keiichi, "we're dealing with a powerful, sick-minded son of a bitch."

Charlie nodded. "I must admit; Hinamizawa has given me interesting work. One corpse that's half-eaten, one that was burned so much it was nearly impossible to scrape up enough for a DNA fingerprint, another torn to shreds, and now this. I'm only doing the autopsies because Irie-san can't stomach it."

"I heard that!" cried Irie indignantly from the direction of the stiff. "I don't have the training, and someone needs to do the day-to-day running of the clinic."

_Yeah, right_.

"Whatever," said Charlie dismissively. "You guys need to get to school. You didn't see this, okay?"

"Does he really think that we can just forget what we've seen?" muttered Keiichi halfway to the school.

"I think he meant that we should pretend we know nothing," said Rena. "If the police ask us, and we know, it may not look good."

Henry said nothing; he'd had his third late night in a row. He'd got such a massive shock when he realised he'd got blood all over his face and hands and clothes; everything he'd touched in the last half hour had to be thoroughly scrubbed down. From what he remembered, he'd just fallen asleep revising his psychology.

Hadn't he?

_Am I so sure I was revising?_

_ Yes, of course. I just fell asleep. That's all._

_ I didn't get a phone call, perhaps?_

_ No. Don't be stupid._

_ Or a knock at the door?_

_ No._

_ Did I go for a walk in the woods?_

_ No, I didn't leave the house._

He shook his head. It wasn't him. He must have spilt something down himself and not realised. He was not a murderer, and he hadn't seen the body before.

_Am I sure?_

_ Shut up.  
_

__He found it difficult to concentrate of his schoolwork, which ultimately meant teaching Rena how to do her own. When Chie walked in after lunch and declared that there was a fourth confirmed murder, he tried to look as shocked and nervous as all the others. At one point he glanced at Shion's hand and saw that what Rena said was true; her middle, ring and little fingers were all missing nails.

The feeling in the club was subdued. This was understandable; Rika was dead, and the news of the fourth death brought the general mood to an all-time low.

Mion, if only to show that a few murders wouldn't phase her, valiantly tried to keep the club meeting running, but it was clear from the beginning that her heart wasn't really in it; she dealt seven hands, though Rika clearly wasn't there and it was unlikely that Chie would suddenly sit down and join in.

It took only a few draws before Henry could see that it was going to hell. Satoko slammed her fist into the desk, scattering the cards.

"What now?" he asked.

"Shion's cheating! I'm not playing if she's going to cheat!"

"What?! Don't be stupid!"

"Shut up, you!"

Henry's nerves snapped. He stood up, kicking his chair back and looking as though he was about to turn the table over.

"You shut up, Satoko," he said in a dangerous tone like a sea mine's groan. "Shion-chan wasn't cheating; I was watching her. You never make a big deal of it when you cheat, so stop bitching when someone else does! Rule two in this club is to use every strategy in your power to win, anyway."

Satoko looked as though she'd been slapped; everyone else looked as though a tsunami had crashed down on top of them. Henry could feel a surging headache coming on and excused himself before he lost control again. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall on the other side, breathing deeply and slowly, fighting the temper down.

_I shouldn't have done that._

_ Why not? Satoko should learn to get over it._

_ She's just a kid._

_ She gets her way too often. So it was when Satoshi was alive, so it is now._

"Parkinson-kun?"

"Huh?" Henry said, opening his eyes suddenly. Chie was standing outside her office with a concerned expression. "Oh, it's you, Chie-sensei."

"I heard shouting. Is everything okay?"

"It's all fine, sensei."

"So why are you out here? I thought you were having a club meeting."

"I lost my temper, Chie-sensei. I'm having a time-out to calm down."

"Just so long as it's all fine."

"Relax, sensei; I'm only standing here. It's not like I'm going to kill anyone."

Chie's expression hardened ever so slightly.

"Sorry; I guess that was a bit tactless what with the current events."

Chie just nodded, tossed her blue hair and marched back into her office.

Henry belted his head on the wall behind him. _I still shouldn't have lost my temper. I can't think straight like this._

_ Who said I thought straight to start with?_

Henry belted his head on the wall, hoping the shock would order his thoughts.

"Hey, Hen-chan?" asked Shion, lobbing her head round the doorway.

"Don't call - "

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I wanted to know what was up with you."

"I guess I've just been too stressed lately. I mean, I only moved into a new country about two weeks ago and already there've four murders in three days."

"Listen," she said, joining him in the corridor and sliding the door shut behind her. She leaned against the wall next to him, staring as he was at the opposite wall as though a mildly interesting film was being projected there. "Satoko isn't too happy at the moment. I think you might have scared her a little; you certainly scared the rest of us. It looked for a moment like you were going to flip the table over."

"I thought for a moment that I was."

"Seriously, you didn't have to stick up for me back there."

Henry stared at Shion; stared down to be precise, as she was considerably shorter than he was.

"But I'm glad you did. It's what Satoshi would have done."

"I would have liked to meet Satoshi. I hear he was a nice guy."

"Yeah. Spacey, and useless at sports, but nice. He looked out for his friends, certainly."

"Sounds like my kind of guy," Henry laughed.

"He kept an eye out for Satoko until he … he was demoned away."

"I was told he transferred. I'm so sorry; he was hit by the curse, wasn't he?"

Shion nodded morosely. "Granny wanted him to go, I think. She didn't like the Hōjōs much. Thought they were traitors, filth and scum."

"She sounds like a charming woman, your grandmother. I do so look forward to making her acquaintance," Henry said sarcastically.

"So … you going to lurk in the corridor for the rest of the afternoon?"

"No; I've got to apologise to Satoko."

Satoko, as he predicted, gave him a very dark look as he entered. The others looked as though he was ready to explode.

"What do you want?" she spat.

"I'm sorry, Satoko. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. We're all a bit down at the moment, and it wasn't fair for me to vent my stress on you."

Satoko looked as though she was having trouble deciding whether to forgive him or not. Henry simply stood there awaiting her verdict.

"Fine, I accept your apology. You might as well join in again."

Henry took his seat, which had been stood back upright again. He sat on it … and immediately fell off again. One of the legs was an inch or so too short. It was in famous in the class as Satoko's trap chair, and most of the class check the chair legs subconsciously before they sat down.

Everyone laughed. Henry almost joined. At least the club spirit was starting to return.

It was nearly sunset when they finally decided to pack up the club games. Satoko lost, amazingly, but Mion declared there would be no punishment game this time.

"We've been through enough lately," was her reason. No-one felt up to challenging her.

Keiichi and Rena left quickly, chattering animatedly. Mion and Shion followed. Satoko was about to leave, but Henry called her back.

"What now?"

"Can I talk to you for a moment? In private."

"Why?"

Henry didn't want to say, but he had to. "It's about the murders. And Rika."

Satoko nodded. He didn't need to say any more. She slid the door shut behind her and perched on a desk.

"What do you want to know? I can't tell you much, though."

"What can you tell me about the dam conflict?"

"Probably nothing you don't already know."

"Fine. It's just that … that was what started it all off, wasn't it? There weren't the yearly deaths and disappearances before then?"

"No. Some say it's because Oyashiro-sama was angered by the threat to destroy Hinamizawa. Humans couldn't stop the project, so maybe he thought _he_ should intervene."

"But why would Oyashiro-sama kill Rika? She was his shrine maiden and the head of the Furude family."

"I don't know, Henry. I don't think this year's murders were done by Oyashiro-sama. They're too brutal."

"I want to find this killer," Henry said, staring out of the window and clenching his fists. "I want to make him pay for what he did to Rika and the others."

"Henry, get real," she said mockingly, joining him by the window. "This bastard's already killed of four people without a gun. He's almost certainly faster or stronger than you or me. Besides, the police are there to deal with him; there no sense getting yourself killed for the sake of revenge."

"It's not revenge; it's justice."

"It's revenge, Henry, there's nothing else to it. This isn't a club game; if you lose, there probably won't be enough of you to put in a stupid costume and mock. I'm no happier about Rika that you, but I can't do anything to help."

"Can't? Or won't?"

"What do you mean?"

Henry was about to bring up Satoshi, but thought better of it. Satoshi was an especially touchy subject. "Never mind. Listen; was Rika acting at all strangely around the time of the Watanagashi or soon after? Like talking to herself in a really weird voice?"

Satoko nodded. "Often when she thought she was alone. She'd always said it was nothing to worry about, though."

"It's just that's what she was doing that night. She also kept looking over her shoulder, as though there was someone there."

"I don't know anything about that, sorry."

"There's something else; I keep feeling something cold brushing past me. It's not the wind, it feels more like a person walking past or reaching out to me. But really, really cold. I felt it at the festival, and again before Rika died, and once again before bed last night. Is that at all odd?"

Satoko remained poker-faced, but Henry was better than to be fooled; something flickered behind Satoko's deep pink eyes. She was frightened. Very frightened.

"If I was superstitious, I'd say you were marked by Oyashiro-sama. For good or bad, I couldn't say. You may be the next victim. You may be the one to solve all this. I hope for the latter, personally. Are you being serious?"

"I keep feeling like _I'm _the killer, Satoko. Because I couldn't protect Rika, she died. I spoke to Tomitake-san last, and he died too. Ooishi suspected me above all others, and then he died. I swear I thought my hands stank of blood last night."

"Don't be stupid, Henry! My nii-nii would never kill all those people!"

Henry opened his mouth to reply, but he felt it again; it was as though someone had their hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him back. He shucked them off, anger seething in his veins.

_How dare she not take me seriously! I'll teach her!_

Henry grasped his head, dropping to his knees and shaking and convulsing as though having a seizure.

"Stop it! Stop it!" he yelled, not realising he was thinking out loud.

"Try and stop me," he replied, laughing. Henry was twitching unnaturally now, as though his own body was fighting itself.

"Henry?" asked Satoko, now sounding hesitant. In Satoko terms, she sounded scared out her mind.

"Stay back!" Henry yelled, thrusting out an arm and sounding almost as scared as she was.

"Shall I get help?"

"Just get the – Don't – Get the hell out of here! – Don't leave me, Satoko!"

Satoko was confused as well as scared. "What?"

"Save yourself! – I didn't mean that! Help me!"

"Henry? What do you want me to do?"

"Stay away from me, I can't hold him back!"

"Hold who back?"

"Don't listen to me! I'll be fine in a sec!"

"What do you want? A doctor?" she asked, now slightly irritated.

"Just … get … out … I …"

Henry stopped convulsing, but lay on the floor in a foetal position, clutching his head and panting as though he'd run a mile.

"Henry?" she asked, concerned once more.

She reached out to touch his arm. His hand shot out and caught her wrist in a vicegrip. She tugged and pulled, but Henry wouldn't let go.

Henry got to his feet, chuckling in a low and menacing way. "He told you to run, didn't he? Stupid girl."

"Let go of me!" she hissed, finally wrenching her arm from his grip. There were no marks on her flesh that indicated that he'd been crushing it. Henry laughed, laughing the laugh that sounds normal but sends chills down your spine.

"You've got some fight in you. I like that. Tomitake-san fought back too. It makes the kill all the sweeter, you know."

Satoko curled her fist and launched a punch that Henry would never have avoided. However, he dodged the punch, grabbed the front of her school dress in both hands and threw her, over-arm, head-first into a desk. The desk flipped and Satoko ploughed straight into a bank of lockers. She got to her feet, a little dazed but otherwise unharmed.

She spat on the floor. "Who are you?"

"I'm Henry, silly. Who else would I be?"

"You're not Henry," she replied, though her heart wasn't truly in it. He looked like Henry, talked like Henry, stood like Henry. He was, in every physical way, _Henry_.

Except his eyes. His were dull and almost lifeless and they were the same colour as ancient bronze coins, but with slit pupils with white slashes down the middle.

"That's where you are wrong, brat. I _am_ Henry. I'm the Henry that you don't see. The Henry that is angry, or scared, or betrayed."

"Nii-nii …" she whimpered, faltering slightly.

"Oh, don't you worry about that. I know all about you and Satoshi." He chuckled maliciously, savouring the pain he was doing her by talking about her brother. She threw a chair at him, but he dodged it. "You were so weak, Satoko. You leaned on Satoshi for everything. Aunt and Uncle beating you up? You called Satoshi. Spilled your lunch on the floor? You called Satoshi. All you did was cry for your nii-nii and he appeared, right."

"Don't talk about my nii-nii like that, you demon!"

"But he was demoned away, wasn't he? That was your fault, too. Satoshi kept his eye on you at all times. He started doing badly at school. He got depressed. He finally snapped, and beat your aunt to death. I'm not certain about the last, but I'm pretty sure. How close am I?"

"SHUT UP! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!"

"He spent so much time watching your ungrateful back he couldn't watch his own. You killed him, Satoko. You made him die, and you ruined Shion's life in doing so."

He slipped his hand into his bag, and drew something short and thin out. It was a slim-bladed kitchen knife; nine inches of bloodied steel.

"You know what this is, brat? This is my little knife. The same little knife I used to stab that fat bastard to death while he squealed like a pig." He ran his tongue along the flat of the blade, giggling evilly. "This is the knife I'm going to kill you with, too."

"How could you kill Ooishi-san like that? What kind of sick demon are you?!"

"I'm Henry, stupid." He flipped the knife over in his hand. "I could probably kill you where you stand, you know. But I've thought of a game. Why don't we race back to your place? If you win, I won't kill you."

Satoko looked as though she was having trouble deciding. Henry cackled again.

"Better run to your nii-nii, Satoko. Run for your life."

She ran for the door.

"I … said … RUN!" Henry roared, throwing the knife after her. It was as though the world had suddenly slowed down suddenly; the knife flipped end-over-end through the air. Satoko was just a metre from the door …

He was no knife-thrower, but the knife hit its target by pure fluke. It slid, point first, straight through the girl's neck, punched out at the back of her throat, protruding from her gaping mouth like a sharp metal tongue. Henry had heard the crack of vertebrae being forced apart. Satoko gurgled slightly, falling to her knees.

Henry went over to her, smirking with self-satisfaction. The knife hit a one-in-a-million spot right at the base of her skull, slicing vertically through her spinal cord, throat lining and, as he discovered looking at her mouth, sliced her tongue almost clean in two. Tears of pain filled her eyes, and she whimpered pathetically.

Henry jiggled the tip of the knife experimentally, and she screamed. Well, she would have screamed, had she not starting choking on her own blood.

"No nii-nii to save you this time, huh?" he said, pushing her over. She landed flat on her back, the knife hilt making an audible _knock_ on the floorboards. He stood over her. "I could leave you to choke, but my tummy's rumbling. D'you mind if I grab a quick snack?

Satoko's pupils dilated in horror, and she tried to say something.

"You know, Tomitake was very tough and chewy. I think it was all the working out he did. I wonder what you taste like. Nice and tender, probably."

Satoko looked ready to scream again.

"Scream all you want, Satoko," he said matter-of-factly, kneeling down next to her spread-eagled form. She stared at him pleadingly. He shook his head, grabbed a fistful of her green dress's shoulder and tore it off, ripping the material and exposing her smooth white flesh. "It will only make this more painful."

His teeth cut into her tender shoulder as easily as his knife had. Satoko screamed and choked blood in his face, but couldn't fight back. Henry just tore hunk after hunk of flesh like a purebred killing machine, licking his lips with joy at the morsel.


	7. Dear You

Chie was the one who found Satoko's body. The police, Charlie, Irie and the remnants of the club were naturally phoned immediately. Henry was last on scene, and was greeted with a truly gruesome sight. Satoko was lying spread-eagled on the floor, a kitchen knife punched right through the back of her throat and a grisly halo of blood around her head. That wasn't the worst, either. The killer seemed to have got a bit peckish, too; most of the flesh on her right shoulder, upper arm, chest and face was missing, a white chassis of bone brought to light.

"I found her about ten minutes ago," said Chie, too shocked for tears. "I heard the back door slam then, but I was too preoccupied with the police to inspect."

"If that's the case, our killer must have fled the crime scene the moment he heard you come in," chipped in Charlie, inspecting Satoko's scalp and hairline.

"I only came back for some work I forget to pick up. Just imagine what would have happened if I hadn't … hadn't …" She swallowed, unable to finish. Mion led her away to fix a strong cup of coffee.

Keiichi flew into an absolute rage. "How could they do this? Whatever sick motives they had for the others, Satoko was just an innocent child!"

"Well," said Shion, in a tone that screamed that she was trying to lighten the mood, "_innocent_ may be stretching it a little. Have you seen her at club meetings?"

Henry and Rena laughed hesitantly. Keiichi didn't. He turned to Shion with a face like thunder. "And how can you just joke about it? Do you have no sensitivity?"

"Hey, back off, Keiichi!" said Henry, stepping in Shion's way. She looked ready to slug Keiichi. "I know we're all sad about Satoko, but she's only trying to make us all feel a bit better! Give her a break!"

Keiichi looked like he was sorely tempted to punch Henry in the face. Henry may have been older and taller than Keiichi was, but Keiichi was probably a damn sight stronger. Instead, he turned away and stood at the window.

"Tell me, Shion. Did Satoko go home with you and Mion, but have to go back for something?"

"No."

"Exactly; she didn't. That means that the last person to see her alive was …" he pointed his finger dramatically. "You, Parkinson-kun!"

"What? You think _I_ did this? I left before Satoko did! What, do you honestly believe that I hate Satoko enough to do that to her?"

"Yes, actually. You seemed pretty hot-headed in the club."

"I had a temper, and I got over it!"

Green eyes stared down purple. Keiichi broke first. "Whatever."

"I'm sorry, but I'm doing more harm than good here," said Henry, making his way to the door. "I'll be at home, Call if you need me or find something interesting."

"I think I might go home, too," said Keiichi.

"Tell me, Keiichi; do you honestly think I would kill Satoko?"

"Yes, I think you would."

They were walking home through a wooded path that Keiichi claimed was a shortcut. They got further and further from the path, and Henry got more and more suspicious.

"Could _you_? Could honestly kill even someone you truly hate, let alone a friend?"

Nothing. Henry looked around. Keiichi had simply vanished.

_It's a trap!_

He glimpsed something rushing towards him in the corner of his eye. He tried to jump out of the way, but couldn't escape a glancing blow to the side of the head with an aluminium baseball bat.

Henry's vision flashed, and stars popped in his eyes. He'd cracked his head open once before; aged six, running outside to help wash the car, tripped over the front doorstep. This was the first time in sixteen years he'd felt anything remotely like it. Once his vision cleared, he saw Keiichi taking another swing, lightning in his eyes.

"What the heck do you think you're playing at?!"

Keiichi yelled with fury, swinging his bat was nothing short of fury.

_He's trying to kill me, isn't he?_

"Keiichi, what is this madness?" he asked, backing out of reach.

"You killed Satoko!" he hissed through gritted teeth. "I'll kill you!"

Henry ran into the woods to avoid another lunge.

_I need a weapon_.

It was as though Oyashiro-sama had pity on Henry; he suddenly noticed a stout stick, about three feet long. He picked it up, turning to see Keiichi almost on top of him. The heavens opened, and thunder rolled dramatically through the valley. Keiichi brought the bat high above his head. Henry held the stick in two-handed grip, and was surprised to see he'd blocked the strike. He pushed Keiichi away, getting to his feet and running back to the open path. Keiichi was hot on his heels the whole time.

Henry got the road, but immediately had to block two more wild swings. _Focus, Henry. Focus._ Henry tried to imagine that his life was at stake. Strangely, he felt that his arms were no longer doing what he wanted them to. His thoughts were not controlling his legs either, but they were spinning and almost dancing of their own accord as he pulled of manoeuvres he was sure he'd never even heard of. It was as though he was merely a puppet. A prisoner within his own head.

"You would kill me with that bat, Maebara?" he taunted, though he hadn't thought it. Or said it. "You would kill me with Satoshi's bat?"

It seemed that he noticed something he hadn't. But when he saw the hilt, he saw engraved on the bottom 'Satoshi'.

He realised where he'd felt that detached feeling. It had happened every time he'd killed. He'd killed, but his mind had been screaming at his body to stop.

"Satoshi's on my side, you English bastard! He'll give me the strength to avenge Satoko!"

"I didn't kill her!"

"You _did_, murderer!" he roared, lunging again. Henry pushed him into a bush and ran for his life.

All he heard as he ran was Keiichi cry of 'You'll get your justice soon!'

_I didn't need your help._

_ Why I saved my life back there. I need me, Henry._

_ Why did you kill Satoko?_

_ I didn't. Henry Parkinson did. That's all anyone knows._

_ Let me go. I won't let you kill anymore._

_ I'd like to see me try._

Henry got home, and tried to go to his room to do his homework. His legs, however, had other ideas. Henry watched helplessly as his body marched into the kitchen.

"Wh-what are you doing with me?"

"Keiichi needs to be punished," he replied, pulling out the box of cigarettes he'd plucked from Ooishi's corpse. There was still most of a pack inside.

"I was wondering when to use these," Henry heard himself muse.

"I hope you're not going to smoke. I hate the smell."

He laughed malevolently. "Don't worry, Henry. They're not for me."

"Then what …" Henry began, but then it twigged. His arms pulled on a pair of long, yellow rubber gloves, and started carefully extracting the tobacco.

_It's not the tobacco it wants. It's the nicotine._

_Clever boy._

"No!" Henry yelled, trying to stop his hands, to gain control of his own body. "Stop it! Don't do it!"

"Oh, really?" he asked himself sceptically. Henry felt himself cock an eyebrow. "How am I gonna make me?"

"I'm strong enough to fight you!"

"Is that so?" he asked, with a dry little chuckle. Henry watched in horror as he picked up a rolling pin in his left hand, and laid his right arm on the work top. The other him wouldn't let him close his eyes or look away while he brought the heavy wooden rolling pin down on his arm.

The pain was incredible, but Henry was sure his arm wasn't broken.

"Am I still strong enough, Henry? Can I fight back? I can hurt me, Henry; we share our pain, I know." His tone was sharp, dry and dispassionate.

"Please," Henry whimpered, as his arms set to work again. "Stop this. Keiichi doesn't deserve to die."

"Keiichi doesn't have to die; he can refuse our little gift. A murder attempt for a murder attempt. Only this time it's survival of the fittest." Henry earned himself a whack on the knuckles for speaking up regardless.

It took a long time. The smell of nicotine wafted faintly from the rice cooker. He watched as the other him prepared the coating.

"Please, stop!" Henry cried, tears of pain in his eyes; he'd beaten himself several times, and his arms were covered in bruises. "Stop this! It's inhuman! Don't you think you've killed enough of my friends?"

"They're Henry's friends, not mine," he replied, adding the coating to the sweet rice balls. "And I'm only getting started. Remember all the times I wished death on someone? I intend to take a life for every wish I so foolishly placed."

"No! I wasn't being serious!"

Henry sighed, and picked up a small, but incredibly sharp knife. He gulped, seeing what his hands were planning on doing.

"The rolling pin's not working, is it? Looks like I have to try something else, won't I?"

"No," Henry whispered in horror. The knife point was hovering directly over his hand. "You wouldn't."

"I've never stabbed my self through the hand. I wonder what it feels like?"

"Don't. Please. I beg you, don't."

"Best I shut up and stop resisting, then."

"What do I have to do to make you stop?"

"I'll give you control of your body. Henry _will_ give these to Keiichi, and I might play nice from now on."

Keiichi answered the door. It was still raining, and dark. Standing just outside the porch was Henry, a wan smile on his face, a white plastic food container in his hands.

"What do you want, Parkinson? It's too late to appeal to my better nature; I've already sold you out. The police will be here soon."

Henry shrugged. "I don't care anymore. I've realised my sin. I'll go quietly. I wanted you to have this."

He held out the plastic box to Keiichi. Keiichi took it suspiciously.

"Look," said Henry, "I know at best I'm gonna be in prison for a while. I wanted you to have these as a peace offering."

"Ohagi?"

"I'm going to be below the radar for a while. Keiichi, I want you to have these. As a way to say we're still friends. I might never come here again. Please forgive me, Keiichi. I'm paying now, so just please say you forgive me."

Keiichi thought for a bit. "Well, I guess you can't hide anymore. Fine; I'll forgive you, Henry."

"Thank you, Keiichi. It means a lot to me that I am at least forgiven by you."

Keiichi looked at the Ohagi, innocuous in their box. "Henry, there wouldn't happen to be …"

_Poison?_

"… a needle in these?"

Henry felt the other him start to stir.

_Best to play it safe._

"A needle? Don't be ridiculous! Who in their right mind would put a needle in ohagi?"

Keiichi laughed. "I dunno. I just keep thinking that one of you guys once gave me an ohagi with a needle in."

"Oh well. Sleep well, Keiichi. Maybe I'll see you again."

"Bye, Henry," he said, as Henry turned into the rain.

_He will sleep well, I know._

_ Shut up, demon. It was stupid giving me my body back._

_ How?_

Henry didn't answer his demon, but he grabbed the kitchen chair and rope he'd stashed outside Keiichi's wall.

_Let's play._

"Who was that, Keiichi?" came a voice from the kitchen.

"It was only Henry, Mom," Keiichi replied from the living room sofa. The box was open in his lap.

"Oh? What did he want?"

"Nothing much. Just to apologise and give me some ohagi as a peace offering."

"That was nice of him. I would never have guessed that he could have murdered all those people; he always seemed to be such a nice boy."

"It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for."

Keiichi popped one of the ohagi into his mouth, chewing it without concentrating much on the food. Why would Henry suddenly turn up and apologise like that?

He bit a large chunk out of another. This time he tasted it. And it tasted _revolting_.

He gagged in disgust, spraying the carpet with flecks of rice and adzuki bean. His mother rushed in.

"What's wrong, Keiichi?"

"These taste absolutely _awful_! What the hell did he put in them?"

"He may just be a bad cook. I'm sure he meant well."  
"Mom, he's killed Rika-chan, Satoko-chan, and three other people in the space of four days. I don't think he _can _mea-" He fell off the sofa suddenly, gagging and choking and clutching his throat. He vomited copiously on the floor, making her reel back in revulsion.

"Keiichi?" his mother asked.

Keiichi stopping writhing. In fact, he stopped doing anything.

Police cars could be heard driving past outside. The doorbell rang. She opened it, trembling with shock and fear.

"Maebara-san," said Charlie, standing on the porch. "Forgive me for calling this late."

"Help me!" she cried, breaking down completely. "Something's happened to Keiichi!"

"Excuse me," he said, suddenly serious. She let him in, and he went into the living room. "What happened?"

"He was given some ohagi; he started eating them, but started gagging and coughing. He puked all over the floor, and then stopped moving. Is he ...?"

Charlie grabbed the rubber gloves from the kitchen and picked up one of the ohagi that hadn't been puked all over.

"Smell it. Don't touch, just sniff."

She did so. "Smell a bit like fags and a bit like pesticide."

"It's not the cigarettes you smell. It's nicotine. Nicotine sulphate, if I'm not mistaken."

"Is that bad?"

"It's very bad, Maebara-san. It's an almost suicidal substance to make, and can kill its maker as easily as its target. It is water-soluble and can be absorbed through the skin. I'm guessing the killer put it in the water for the rice. It paralyses respiratory muscles, and as such knocks its victim out in about forty seconds."

"So what does this mean?"

"It means that, and I'm sorry to say this, Maebara Keiichi died from oxygen deprivation about … thirty-six seconds ago."

"Keiichi …" she moaned, stunned.

"Who gave him these?"

Keiichi's mother sat down on the sofa, shaking.

"Parkinson-kun. It was Parkinson-kun."

"What game is this, Henry?" The other him sounded uncertain. Henry tightened the knot, tugging on the end to check.

"It's a trap."

"A trap? I thought Satoko was the trap mistress."

"Someone has to fill the void."

"The police are after us, Henry. How will this help?"

"It just _will_. Trust me."

"Yeah, it's Offley … yes … no sign of him? … double your search, and set up a perimeter … there are twenty of you in stab-vests! He can't possibly escape the house if he's there! … sorry. There's been another murder, by the way … Maebara Keiichi, neighbours kid and school friend of the suspect … uh-huh … poisoned, but I'll have to do an autopsy to be certain … no, I didn't do it! I just came here to cut bodies up … that came out badly, didn't it? … my alibi is airtight, so no … yeah, get people to stay inside and not answer the door … understood."

Henry felt something inside him recoil at the sight of it. That pleased him; he'd scared it.

"Don't do this, Henry. I need me."

"Do you remember how _I _pleaded?" spat Henry, setting the stool in place. "How I begged you to spare Keiichi? Well, why should I listen to you?"

"I beg you!" he cried, trying with all his might to stop Henry climbing onto the stool. But Henry was too enraged with himself to care. He climbed up anyway, testing the rope.

"I don't care anymore," said Henry, quietly but forcefully. "Killing my friends was a very stupid move." He drew a folded sheet of note paper from his pocket, and clenched it in his left fist. "So long, _oni_."

He jumped off the stall, kicking it from under him. He looked up, up at the stars and the moon so bright. Like scattered diamonds and pearls. Like the tears of Oyashiro-sama, grieving the misery that he had brought to Hinamizawa.

Henry sighed. He needed some sleep. But as he gazed at the stars, a contented little smile etched itself onto his lips.

Morning. The police were on the scene ten minutes after the call, led by Charlie.

"So what did you want to tell us?"

The woman looked up at him, tears in her eyes, her blue hair glowing in the sunlight. She nodded.

Chie had been driving to school early, trying not to think about the death of Keiichi the previous night. She told them how she'd driven past the Furude Shrine as a detour. The shattered remains of a kitchen stool at the bottom of the steps. When they asked what happened next, she just pointed at the top of the steps, pale with horror and shock.

Something tall and thin was hanging from the torii at the top of the steps. It was only when they got to the top that they found out what it was.

A human body, staring blissfully at the sky. With one lichen-green eye and one like an ancient coin. A crumpled note in a rigour-mortis fist.

The body of Henry Parkinson.

A tall woman answered the door. She wore a black cotton kimono embroidered with intricate white flowers, and vivid, poisonous-green hair tied into a short ponytail.

"Sonozaki Akane-san," said Charlie, bowing. "I am here on police business. Is Shion-chan available?"

"I believe so," she said, inviting him in cautiously.

Shion was talking to a tall, muscular man wearing a black suit, black tie, black shoes, black shades, neatly slicked black hair and a trim black goatee. He exuded an aura of a man who knew a lot about guns, for some reason. They were talking about, unsurprisingly, Keiichi's death.

"Sonozaki-chan?"

"Ah, Offley-san. How is the investigation going?"

"We've found something you can help us with."

"Why _me_?"

"It's a note. Addressed to you."

Shion took it, unfolding the paper. It was written in English in neat ballpoint pen, but she knew enough to understand what it said.

_To Sonozaki Shion,_

_If you are reading this, then I must be gone_

_It is time for me to sort right from wrong_

_I must admit, I must contrite_

_For what I've done since the Watanagashi night:_

_Of Tomitake-san, I tore out his throat;_

_A diesel cremation for Ms Takano;_

_Ooishi, my puppet, strung from the trees;_

_These deaths were caused by the oni in me._

_Furude Rika, alone in the woods,_

_Was met by this oni (I know not how it could);_

_Hōjō Satoko, impaled by my blade;_

_For Keiichi, a poisoned ohagi I made._

_But I can dance this dance no more;_

_Me and my shadow have to settle the score._

_If I win, my soul will be free to go._

_If not, well … I don't want to know._

_I hang at the place where purity meets sin,_

_I hope at peace, from this turmoil within._

_Shion, forgive me, and remember me still;_

_I love you, always have, and forever more will._

"Take me to him," she said, folding the note up again, voice cracking with emotion. "I need to see him."

"I'm sorry, Shion, but I cannot allow that."

"I don't care!" she shrieked. "I don't care! Just show me him!"

Charlie shrugged. "Fine."

Shion practically jumped out of the police car, pounding up the great stone steps before Charlie had even undone his seatbelt. Her breath caught in her chest; hot and raw and quick. It didn't matter to her anymore. Nothing mattered, really.

Charlie pulled out a penknife, and cut the rope that tethered Henry to the high stone arch. His body fell heavily, collapsing to his knees before Shion caught him. She kneeled down too, clutching his lifeless body to her chest, sobbing heavily into his oh-so-cold shoulder.

"What was he staring at?" one of the police officers whispered to Charlie.

Charlie looked up into the sky. "The stars. He died last night, whilst gazing at the stars for one last time." He looked at Henry, then Shion, then lowered his gaze, shaking his head.

"Game over, Henry. Game over," he said softly, feeling that, for once, sensitivity may be helpful.

Shion cried and cried, rocking back and forth, as though her grief may spark life in him once more. But it was too late; Henry was as empty as the discarded shedding of the mournful, ubiquitous higurashi.


End file.
